


Lost to the Sea

by Flatfootmonster



Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Love, First Time, Intimacy, Loss, Love, M/M, Merlore, Metaphysics, Slow Burn, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-04-23 11:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 73,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14331309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flatfootmonster/pseuds/Flatfootmonster
Summary: Isak doesn't yet know who he is, or who he even want's to be. This is how he finds himself a very long way from his home, embarking on a chapter of his life that will be more challenging than he could ever anticipate.Even is indebted to the land and living in human form, despite his very nature demanding he return to the sea. Fate has kept him tethered, alone and frustrated. Until, that is, one day a human walks where none have ventured in years and he is instantly intrigued.Both beings crave belonging and a need to be seen, if only by one other set of eyes.





	1. It was a Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, I'm back with my Merlore - I'm totally excited about it. Fantasy will ever be my playground. And I'm thrilled to be submerging Isak and Even in the same world I created for Hannigram (you can read [Time is Fluid and Heals here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11160312/chapters/24906579)). It's **not** a cross over but it **is** connected (if you've read it you'll see how as we go deeper into the story). 
> 
> Just a note, I will be taking my time to make sure this is as perfect as I can get it before posting, so bear with me for updates.
> 
> Enjoy! Becs <3

Isak’s gaze followed the thin wisps of cloud that swirled lazily across the perfect azure sky. Despite it being early January, there was always warmth in the sunlight out here. This spot was the one place in the world where he felt solace from the inner turmoil that coursed through his being and raged beneath his skin. It’d been almost a month since he’d sat here last and the amount of relief he felt at returning to lie on this jetty—with his bare feet dangling in the freezing cold water—was more than he’d imagined; it was astounding in fact. 

He’d doubted the comfort of the inlet—telling himself that perhaps it was just something he’d romanticized while at home over the holidays. Some place he’d built in his mind as a convenient escape from the harsh truth of his reality. That hypothesis was proven false as soon as he’d slung his bike down where the narrow path through the trees began and tranquillity settled in his bones. His heart began to sync with the gentle breath of the ocean as soon as he’d made his way down the wooden platform that thrust into the body of water, like a bony finger pointing towards the thin neck where this calmer stretch flowed back into the sea. Pointing towards the wild and free. 

There was something special about this place, it was utterly unique both in its beauty (the wide blue of the sea and the sky on one side and the evergreen woods at his back, rolling hills that built to cliffs and encircled this utopia like a hug) and in the way it made him  _ feel _ . He could  _ feel  _ himself here, he still couldn’t see himself but there was a faint light now in the dark room he’d been stumbling through and slowly sensation was returning to the extremities of his soul. 

But—try as he might—Isak could never figure out exactly  _ what  _ that special something was, and frankly he wasn’t about to question a sense of belonging he’d always longed for. 

Choosing to study here (in The States) had been a test he’d set himself. Isak wanted to know if he could survive alone—which he’d proven he could—and he’d needed to feel the reassurance that should come with returning to his home in Oslo, or the homesickness that most people spoke about when away from their birthplace. Both of those things  _ hadn't  _ happened. Perhaps that came with age or time but he doubted that was the case within himself. As far back as Isak could remember, he felt out of place—despite the friends and family he loved. It always seemed he wore a mask, but he didn’t know who he was beneath that façade. He drifted through life like a leaf on the breeze and felt no grounding; that was OK he supposed, in fact he’d come to terms with being a loner. But  _ here  _ there was that  _ something— _ a intangible hope that remained elusive to his comprehension.

Water swirled around his submerged feet and Isak smiled as he pushed himself up to sit, bending forward and staring into the clear water below him. And there he was—or  _ her _ —the very same dogfish that he’d seen on every single visit. It was utterly bizarre, he’d never known a fish to act this way, so very tame and playful. Isak dangled his fingers in the water and the creature nudged at them the way a friendly cat would. 

“Hey bud.” It felt natural to talk to the fish now, who’d poked its nose out of the water seemingly intent on whatever Isak was saying, “I forgot the food today.” He’d been bringing scraps of food before the Christmas break; it turns out this particular fish was not fussy about what he ate. His companion looked unperturbed by the confession, butting at Isak’s ankle before scurrying off in the water. He frowned after the fish as it shot forward a few feet and then stilled, only to return and butt at his ankle. 

The new ritual was repeated again and Isak couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. “You want me to follow?” The animal repeated its motions again, before waiting a few meters away. “It’s too cold and-” it felt ridiculous that he was explaining himself to a fish but here he was doing it anyway, “I don’t have any shorts— _ or _ a towel. Maybe next time?” Swimming? In the winter? Was he mad? 

His companion stared at him a moment longer, then turned and swam off into the deep. Isak swore that if the creature had been human he would have heard a sigh of exasperation before it vanished.

It was utterly intriguing, this whole place was a separate magical realm and one that never failed to make him smile. He’d found out about these grounds in an overheard conversation whilst eating a solitary lunch during his first week on campus. 

Apparently (and according to the native students), decades ago a very wealthy doctor bought the surrounding grounds to this inlet and made the whole expanse private—supposedly that man was never seen again. They’d said the whole place was a teeming wilderness with monstrous dogs that would chase intruders away and—the rumors  _ also  _ said—that a mad woman lived in the old house on the cliffs. Some went so far as to state she was a witch and the grounds were cursed so if anyone swam in the water here, they turned into a fish. And  _ that  _ was what happened to the doctor all those years ago.

Isak had thought the whole thing absurd, laughable and utterly untrue; he still did for that matter. He heard dogs from time to time—barking somewhere way off in the distance—but he’d not been bothered by them, not once. And  _ wilderness  _ was a bit of a stretch. There was a wooden cabin on the waterside that—although it looked age—was kept orderly: the wood had been treated recently and the glass panes in the windows were all intact and clean. 

Isak’s intrigue hadn’t overcome him to look any closer  _ yet _ , but on one instance a large bag of dog food had been left leaning against one wall of the cabin. It looked like that might be the dogs’  _ home _ —when the weather called for shelter anyway. Not exactly rabid beasts, as the stories would have it, if they slept in relative comfort and ate doggy biscuits.

The house on the cliff was aged too, but not unloved. It had a fresh coat of paint and sometimes lines of white sheets and towels would be hanging outside, gracefully shifting in the wind that met the land in a burst of welcome. It always reminded Isak of truce flags that were held aloft between the elements, because—of course—they would meet in peace in  _ this  _ world.

There was a definite presence, someone was maintaining a perfect habitat for the creatures that lived here; but still Isak was yet to see another human. And he hoped that if or  _ when _ he did, they would allow him to continue to visit. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat, leaning on his palms whilst he stared at the house on the cliff like it was a puzzle waiting to be solved, but it was movement in the water around his feet that drew him from his daydreams. Isak snorted a laugh.

“Are you back again, bud?” his mirth was cut short as he looked down at the water that churned in the wake of  _ something _ only to find there was no dogfish this time. Isak  _ thought  _ there’d been a flash of maroon in the depths but it was gone so quick he doubted himself immediately. 

Just like any other moment that passed in this place, Isak felt no fear; instead there was a never-ending curiosity that felt as strong as the currents churning deep in the water that rushed to re-joined the sea. Maybe it had been some mythical beast that dwelled in the waters here, now  _ that  _ would suit the fantastical rumours in any case.

Isak laughed at himself and decided that his imagination was running away with him. It was simply the swell of the waters in the tide. Logically, what else could it be? 

But his mirth quickly reforged itself as sobriety; the sun was getting low on the horizon now and made the surface of the sea molten gold. He’d need to leave soon. Apart from having several projects to get on with, he wasn’t keen on biking in the dark.

Sighing, Isak stood, brushing off his jeans and trying to shake his feet dry before putting his socks and shoes back on. Back to cold reality, back to the real world and feeling like a square peg in a round hole, back to the masquerade. 

As he walked back down the jetty—enjoying the last warming rays of the sun on his back—Isak considered bringing his coursework next time. That way he might stay longer, the days  _ were  _ drawing out after all. 

* * *

 

Even caught his breath and let the back of his head rest against the rocky outcrop that had become his lookout; it sat at the neck of the inlet, where the water flooded in from the sea beyond. The setting sun made the water on his skin and scales shimmer; light reflected back into the world in a dizzying haze of gold, indigo and purple from his body that still heaved from the exertion to race back to safe hiding.

The boy was gone now and that brought him equal parts relief and sadness. He’d been hoping their visitor would return, it had been almost a month since his last appearance and Even had grown worried—could it be that he’d missed him? No,  _ that  _ was a ridiculous notion. How could he miss someone he didn’t even know? But deep down, he’d  _ known  _ the human would return.

“That was close, Winston.” he frowned down at the fish, who stared defiantly back at him with an expression close to disappointment. “ _ What _ ? You know people can’t see me—you know—like  _ this _ .” He gestured to his lower half, where legs would be on a human there was instead a long and elegant tail. 

He’d dared to get closer, drawn to the boy more and more with each visit. There was something captivating within him that Even hadn’t encountered before. And the closer he crept, the more mesmerized he became by eyes that were green as the forest and a smile that had found a home at the very centre of Even’s core. It warmed him there and  _ that  _ was the best he could do at describing this strange but alluring reaction he had to this human.

Even wanted to talk to their visitor, but he was terrified; all he knew—and was reminded of frequently—was that connections with humans would only ever end in devastating pain and irreparable loss.  _ This  _ time the boy had almost seen him as Even sped away from the submerged supports of the jetty. It was dangerous—he  _ knew _ —but he couldn’t help it, it felt like they were magnets drawing on one another.

“And you,” he frowned at the dogfish, “need to stop meddling.” The creature simply turned its tail and swam away, as if it knew better. Which perhaps it did, given that it was old enough to have played hide and seek with Even’s mother around these rocks when  _ she  _ was a child. But Even had never seen the fish be so interfering, or the other animals for that matter. 

Whenever someone stepped foot on their land, the dogs would scare the intruder away. They always had and without fail or encouragement for that matter; seemingly taking pride in their role as the gatekeepers. And yet for some reason unknown to Even, they had let  _ this  _ human pass. 

He could remember that day crystal clear. It was months ago now and he’d been up at the house, tending the plants his mum kept in the sun room (their glass extension that she would spend most of the day in due to the warmth and the plants that thrived in that microcosm). He’d known there was something outside, something was  _ different _ —forever altered; that magnetism he felt suddenly switched on and vibrated through his atoms. And so he’d been compelled to look out of the window  _ just  _ as the human took his first unsure footstep onto the jetty. 

Even had gaped, mystified and bewildered to see a human walking here after so many years. With every step the boy took, anticipation and fear had welled in him. Then, suddenly—like fragments of a puzzle had aligned, illuminating something which Even could not yet decipher—he felt a warmth reflected back to him. He couldn’t explain it, but there was a familiarity there that was uncommon and unknown and yet it  _ felt  _ like a memory when the fingertips of his soul tried to seek it out.

He’d stared too long and when he finally roused himself from his daydream, his mum was watching him, wearing an unreadable expression on her cool features. Even had offered to go down, tell the human it was private property and not to trespass. But—with a voice as cold and hard as iron—she’d told him not to go anywhere near  _ that  _ human. The final words almost spat with so much distaste, Even had flinched. 

It’d probably been the first thing she’d said to him all that week and he was loathe to argue with her or baulk, especially when her mood was so uncharacteristically dark. Usually she wore a simple and passive existence, her days mostly spent in a haze as she receded further into herself and her memories. Even was left alone to care for the small world they occupied, from the grounds to the inlet. 

He assumed she'd thought the human wouldn’t come back after that. But the next week he returned and this time Even had been out of the confines of their house and at sea. He’d felt that pull like before, it was a need he decided and one that he couldn’t deny, despite what his mum had requested. He’d swum back to the outcrop that day and simply watched the boy, losing so many hours perched out in the sun that—by the time Even lost sight of the human, retreating back through the trees as the sun began to set—his form had already changed. 

And every time since—on each occasion that the visitor had shown up—Even would wake up that very morning with a sense in his gut that the human would come. That instinct only grew in strength as the weeks past, to the point that there was almost an invisible connection between them now. Even was convinced that, if he ventured inland, he could follow that connection to wherever it was that the boy lived. 

Being a Merman, Even was no stranger to the instincts that were within him, linking him to his surroundings and the beings within it, even calling to him when he was needed. But  _ this  _ was different, it was  _ new _ . And if the regular visits were anything to go by, something had snared the human too. Although Even had no clue how it would manifest within him. His mum would be able to tell him perhaps, but he couldn’t bear the thought of making her speak of the past. Perhaps the human needed him in some way? That’s what his callings were usually; to help, to assist.

She would watch him on those days, knowingly. Words seemed to lie beneath her tongue that never surface and Even’s brain couldn’t help but turn over what she might say in his own mind. It would seem that his mother had instincts here too but ones she was unwilling to share. 

He assumed it was simply being overprotective; they were isolated here and it’d been another age that someone else occupied their sacred space. Even was torn between her wishes and this overwhelming urge to connect. He’d been so alone up here and for so long. His nature was to be one with the sea and drift through the world as nature intended and required it, those impulses were ignored. She never asked him to stay but he couldn't leave, not as she faded a fraction more from the living world each day. She’d been altered almost beyond recognition since his father had died.

Worryingly—as the weeks passed and the human kept up his excursions—she spoke to him more often. Moving from her sea-view seat in the sun room to spark conversations about Even returning to the ocean, being who he was supposed to be and exploring the world beyond this inlet. Part of him wanted to listen but he couldn’t consider it, he wouldn’t even entertain the thought anymore. And for more reasons now other than her health. 

There was—he admitted to himself, staring off in the direction that Winston had disappeared—a very real connection that he longed to explore. Because it  _ would  _ be nice to speak to someone, just to interact with another being that could hold a conversation. Maybe that’s all this was? A simple need to be seen, to be known. Not to be alone. 

Caught in the nondescript limbo between land and sea, Even realised that this was the first time he’d wanted something for himself, whatever this  _ thing  _ was. Regardless of his mother’s displeasure, Even  _ would  _ speak to him the next time the human visited.


	2. Where Land meets the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why—,” he began before clearing his throat, his voice was hoarse, “why do you say I found something?”
> 
> Even smiled at him. “You come here to breathe.” And the words were so simple and succinct—cutting to his core—that Isak found himself at a loss for words again.
> 
> “I—uh,” Isak licked his lips, where did he begin? “I’m new here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Sunday y'all! I hope you've had a good weekend... and here I am dropping the next chapter. Yay. I love this world and I hope you love it too. 
> 
> I've had a rum and coke and I'm editing myself so this is probably not the best idea I've had in a while but you know... what can you do. ENJOY!
> 
> Becs <3

Isak fingered the collar of his t-shirt, the skin at the nape of his neck was rapidly warming and for no apparent reason, which was weird even for this place. He continued to frown down at the book in his lap, his sandwich dangling from a hand resting on his knee as he tried to absorb the course material. 

He’d slacked over the weekend, taking the opportunity to get drunk—for the most part—in stead of getting on with his assigned work. It was no big deal, he’d always been a quick study, getting the work finished in half the time the other students would usually take. But he was finding it hard to focus. 

Some unfortunate realities had reared their heads the past week; the façade he’d tried so desperately to leave back home had found him here. Isak didn’t know how to fit in other than by playing the role he was so familiar with; as the social circles had formed over the last few months, personalities had been assumed. He was back to playing the trickster, the joker that nothing seemed to touch, the flirt. He was pissed off with himself that he’d managed to walk the same line, this was supposed to be a fresh start, somewhere he could figure out who he was. Yet he was back to pretending to be what people assumed he was, being what they  _ wanted _ to see.

Shaking his head, Isak took a bite of his sandwich, trying to leave behind the irritation that he’d amassed within himself. He was here on the jetty and  _ this _ was the place he could breathe. He would figure a way out of the corner he seemed to be backing himself into, he had to. Otherwise, would that be it? Would he always do this, no matter where he was or who he was with?

“Hi.”

Isak almost choked on his mouthful as he jumped at the intrusion. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard anyone approach. Wiping a hand across his mouth, he turned towards where the deep voice had come from. He was struck dumb by how far he had to crane his neck to take in the boy, standing a few meters behind him. And then he was stunned again as Isak absorbed him: tall and lithe but strong, he was perhaps a few years older than Isak and soft golden hair fell around a face that held two piercing blue eyes. Isak had never seen anyone he could only describe as ethereal until that moment. He cleared his throat, at a very uncharacteristic loss for words. 

“Hi.” he said quickly, after the initial shock had passed.

“I didn't mean to startle you.” his voice was softened by a warm smile. 

“You didn't,” Isak began, dumping the remains of his sandwich into the container he'd brought it in, “I mean you  _ did _ , but I was—well…  _ lost _ .” he added, gesturing to the book. Isak chewed his lip as a silence stretched out. He seemed to be absorbing Isak right back, did he live here? “I can leave-” 

“No, no. I don’t want you to leave.” he cut in, seemingly just as awkward as Isak felt. He gestured to the spot next to Isak. “You mind?”

Isak frowned in confusion, why was he asking permission? “Sure,” he replied, moving to one side of the platform to give the other room, “but, isn’t this your…  _ place _ ?” he couldn’t find a better word to describe this separate world.

“I guess,” he replied, folding smoothly to sit next to Isak, “but  _ you _ seem to belong here.” he huffed softly as he turned to look out over the water that stretched before them both. 

Isak was left studying his profile and trying to figure out the words he’d used. “What do you mean?”

“No one comes here, the dogs keep people away. But they don’t seem to mind you.” the boy shrugged, “even Winston likes you and he’s lived here longer than I’ve been alive. Or my mum for that matter.” he turned to Isak with a grin and, registering the bemused expression on Isak’s face, he realised he needed to elaborate. “Winston is the dogfish.”

The first question that spurted from Isak’s mouth surprised even him. “How long do dogfish live for?”

He laughed and Isak smiled, pride at his own ability to amuse this stranger with his naïve questioning.

“As long as they want, apparently.”

There was a pause as Isak was not quite sure where to start, feeling like his tongue was too clumsy for the words needed to communicate here, in this place and with this person. “You’ve seen me here before?” If he knew about  _ Winston  _ then he must have. The dogfish had a name? He’d laugh if he wasn’t so completely caught off guard by their interaction. He felt off balance but it was oddly refreshing. 

The boy hummed in agreement. “From the first visit. Like I said, no one comes here.”

Isak wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react to that; his visits here had been observed and he’d never looked for permission. Discomfort, perhaps, was the very least he should have felt, but all he knew was there were equal parts curiosity and guilt struggling for dominance inside him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep coming— _ trespassing,  _ I should have tried to look for someone to ask.”

It was the other boy’s turn to look perplexed. “Why would you be sorry? You found something here and you aren’t harming anyone.”

Then blue eyes were searching his face again and Isak felt bare, that gaze seemed to see beneath the layers. Dropping his chin, Isak studied the planks that separated them. “I’m Isak.” he offered, it was the least he could give for the hospitality he’d been unknowingly granted.

“Even.” he replied, as a hand appeared under Isak’s nose. Hesitantly, he reached towards Even. As soon as their palms grazed over each other, a sensation spread through Isak. It was a tingling warmth, flowing over the surface of his skin and deep within his bones until it reached his chest where time and his heart seemed to stop. And then that heat and firmness was gone as Isak’s hand was released from the surreal handshake. His blood surged in his veins as his body sped up to make up for that one prolonged moment. 

_ What was that? _ It seemed like Even was the embodiment of this place, the understanding warmth Isak felt here was within his new acquaintance. How was he getting all of these notions based on almost nothing at all? And did Even have any notions? And weren’t these fairly fucked up questions to be having after sitting with someone for less than five minutes?

“Why—,” he began before clearing his throat, his voice was hoarse, “why do you say I found something?”

Even smiled at him. “You come here to breathe.” And the words were so simple and succinct—cutting to his core—that Isak found himself at a loss for words again.

“I—uh,” Isak licked his lips, where did he begin? “I’m new here. I started an exchange year at John Hopkins in September… and I’m still trying to figure out who I am or where I belong. Being here helps.” he wasn’t sure how much detail he should go into but he felt comfortable enough to talk about himself. That alone was exceptionally rare. 

“You don’t miss home?”

It was Isak’s turn to shrug as he watched the sunlight glinting from the gentle waves and ripples created as the water bumped into the jetty’s supports. “I guess.” he said before reconsidering his words, “Well, no. I don’t feel the need to go back, I  _ will  _ for my final year. I miss my friends and my family but I’ve never felt like they _know_ me.” 

Even gave him a curious look. “What makes you say that?” 

Isak chewed his lip. “I don’t even know myself,” he grunted a self-deprecating laugh as he looked at his toes wiggling in the clear water, “except that I have this itch in my feet to keep moving—from place to place. All of that restlessness fades here, it’s weird.” he paused for a moment, his words settling between them. Why did he feel willing to speak so openly? “But I’ve always wanted a sense of home, like most have. Like I’m sure you do here.” Even made a sound of disagreement at the sentiment and Isak turned to eye him questioningly. “You don’t?”

Taking in a deep breath, Even looked as though he was carefully preparing his words before he spoke. “Well, you could say I live between two worlds. My nature is to travel but I stay here.” he nodded in the direction of the house on the cliff. “My mum, she’s not well so I look after her, and this place,” he made a gesture at their surroundings, “and so here I stay, in limbo. Whether or not I want to.” he was hugging his knees close to his chest with one arm while tracing a finger through water that had sloshed onto the planks. “I do want to care for my mum,” he added suddenly in defence of himself, “it’s just lonely.”

Isak nodded. He could understand, no matter how idyllic your surroundings seemed, to have your choice taken away would always lead to unhappiness, or resentment. “You don’t get to leave at all, no friends visit?”

“I go out to get some stuff that we need, but mostly we get things delivered. And I lost contact with friends a long time ago—this place is a full time job.” he smiled at Isak, but there was a sadness there that Isak could  _ feel _ . He was tempted to ask about Even’s family but thought better of it; that kind of discussion had to be offered. 

Instead, Isak looked around him: the high cliffs, along the waterline and then the surrounding forest at their back. “It’s a lot of land. I’d heard it was ruins and wilderness. But there seems to be,” he shrugged looking for the right words, “a natural order? Or balance—I don’t know. It must be a lot of work.”

“It is. Land and animals, it’s never ending. Rewarding though.” he replied.

“I bet.” Isak thought about it and even with his limited knowledge it seemed like a formidable job for one person to handle, and that was on top of caring for his mother.  _ Animals _ ? How many animals did he look after? He turned to Even, about to ask but stopped himself short. The expression he saw was one of modesty. Isak felt—in someway he could not explain—that it was more a duty to Even, upholding a responsibility that couldn’t be questioned. Maybe he shouldn’t press further on that burden.

“Is that what they say about here? Ruins and wilderness?” Even asked, amused now.

“Yeah,” Isak grinned at the absurdity of school rumours, “and that an old, mad witch lives here that curses people.” he added with a laugh before falling silent as quickly as the mirth had started. Maybe that had been Even’s mum they were referring to?

“Ah,”  _ his  _ levity hadn’t lessened though, “so those stories are still about? The witch would be my mum.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Even grinned, “we keep to ourselves. The only people that come around are delivery drivers, and _they_ probably think we are odd—especially when my mum has an off day and decides to shout at them for one bizarre reason or another. It’s been three generations of my family that have stayed here, not really leaving—well, as far as  _ they _ can see anyway. Stories were always going to spread.”

“And to be fair, you do name your fish.” Isak put in, Even looked at him for a moment before they both began to laugh. The noise they made seemed odd; loud in this peaceful place but at the same time a foreign and beautiful music that could quickly find a home here. “I mean,” Isak continued once he’d caught his breath, “do you name all the animals?—In the water? It’s the sea, there must be,” he made a playfully flippant gesture at the mass of water around them, “countless fish here.”

“Actually, I didn’t name Winston.” Even corrected.

“I suppose that was your grandmother?” the tease in Isak’s words was not lost on the other.

“My grandfather actually.” he smirked as Isak stared with his mouth open. Surely he was joking. “And it’s only the regulars that get named. A tradition my grandfather  _ also  _ started.”

“You’re kidding?” Regular wildlife? He’d heard of birds and other wild animals returning to nests and dwellings they knew well, but sea-life? The dogfish had been alive that long?

“No. So maybe you're right. We _are_ strange enough to have crazy stories told about us.” His grin was wide and mischievous, sending a puzzling blush up Isak’s neck and cheeks.

“It’s not strange... _w_ _ ell _ ,” Isak conceded, never one to mince his words, “I’ve never heard anything like it. But I’ve never known anywhere like this place, it might be strange but it’s nice. It’s unique…  _ special _ .” he didn’t think he had the vocabulary to adequately describe their surroundings. 

“So, we’re special, is that what you’re telling me?” and that laugh was never far behind his words, Isak was learning. He was easy to speak to and had a gentle way about him, whilst still able to take a joke. Isak liked that.

But he still spluttered, trying to figure out how to get out of the word play Even had tied him into. “No, I don’t mean… it’s just not really strange. Or if it is, who cares? It’s not a  _ bad  _ thing.”

“I’m glad you think so.” the words weren't sarcastic, the sentiment genuine, as though Isak’s opinion meant a great deal. He wasn’t sure his opinion had ever meant a great deal to anyone before. It should feel peculiar or strange in the least, but all Isak felt was a sense of anticipation. The feeling you get in your gut when you’re watching a movie and it’s at a moment where things are revealed and you’re perched on the edge of your seat as it unfolds. Except he wasn’t watching a movie, this was the mystery of this inlet revealing itself to him and _only_ him. 

Isak cleared his throat, retracing his way through their conversation to keep himself grounded. “So, if you’d seen me when I came, why didn’t you come speak to me before? Why today?”

Even tilted his head to the side, considering the question. “When I first saw you down here it was a shock, I figured you wanted to be alone. But then you kept coming, each time I thought maybe I should speak to you but I wasn’t sure. When you didn’t come for a few weeks I thought perhaps that was that. Then last week,” his words were tumbling one after the other and his eyes were fixed on the stony outcrop at the neck of the lake mouth, “last week you were back and I made the decision to come talk to you next time— _ today _ . And you looked busy,” he gestured to Isak’s books, ”so I thought I’d wait. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Isak couldn’t help but stare at Even as he explained it, not realising he was smiling until Even turned to him. He had to look away, unsure why he felt the need to hide his gaze or his smile. It was endearing in a way to hear such deliberation given over just coming to talk to him.  _ Although _ , Even wasn’t used to addressing anyone here, it was probably just nerves at approaching  _ anyone  _ in the isolation he spent most his time in. That was the logic, Isak told himself; however something niggled at him that there  _ was  _ more to it. But for now the logic won out in his internal deliberation. 

“I’m glad you did.” Isak replied before he’d had a chance to mull the words over in his head. He was glad? Even smiled, despite Isak still staring at the grain of the wood—he could actually feel his smile; it was reflected off Isak’s skin, and every atom within his body seemed to vibrate with life waiting to burst free. 

It was a relief when a bark from the shore cut through the thickening tension of the moment. Both turned to where the noise had come from and—for the first time—Isak saw one of the dogs that must belong to Even; it was a sandy coloured mutt, and elderly judging by it’s gait. Perhaps  _ belong _ was the wrong choice of words, Isak mused, because it looked to him like the dog was summoning the human.

“Applesauce; It must be time for food.” Even announced as he moved to stand just as gracefully as he’d sat. “You wanna come?” he asked.

Isak stared up at him. “Sure.” he replied, beginning to move his things into his backpack and stand. Slipping damp feet into his trainers he slung his bag onto his back and began to follow Even down the jetty as the old shaggy dog slowly plodded towards the platform to meet them. “ _ Applesauce _ ?”

Even laughed at the abridged question. “Yeah, I didn’t name  _ her  _ either.” they reached the animal and Even reached out a hand to be greeted by a series of licks as he mussed the dog’s fur. “Did I, old girl? She doesn’t even like applesauce—I tried.” he added turning to Isak. “Just watch out for her tongue, she's liberal with it when she gets the chance.”

“Noted.” Isak said as he scratched behind a floppy ear and was indeed greeted by a sloppy lick on his wrist.

The three made their way towards the cabin, gravel and sand crunching underfoot and paw. Even reached their destination first, pulling at a door that was unlocked and stepping inside. With a last brief look at the neat exterior, Isak followed on Applesauce’s heels.

He'd expected something unkempt but not unclean, being a dog den as he’d assumed. Admittedly it did smell like dog, there was no escaping that, but the inside was solid and clean. Wooden bunks were built into the back wall, one atop the other and made large enough to hold several humans but right now a multitude of pillows and throws were strewn on the lower bunks, most likely generously covered in dog hair. The floor was clear except for where several colourful rugs were laid out and a sink and small hob for cooking were tucked in one corner; this place had been more than just a dogs den. 

As Isak was examining the cosy room, Even grabbed a bag of dog food stored in a cupboard above the sink and began to fill the large metal dishes that were set in a line along one wall. He heard the sound of paws a few seconds before he was rushed by a crowd of dogs: varying breeds, sizes and ages but all tails—short and long alike—wagged, eager for food. 

“It's not just for the dogs. I used to spend the summers down here as a kid.” Even seemed to answer the questions that Isak held in his mind. “Me and my dad would be here a lot of time. Now it's just my mum, I rarely spend time away from the house and so they reclaimed it.” his gaze travelled across the backs of the content dogs, noses deep in their dishes, taking a mental register of the animals.

Pushing his hands deep into his pocket, Isak acknowledged the emotion that flared in him at Even’s statement. It was something close to pain which was absurd because he had no idea what lay behind Even’s words, but an intuition pulled at him hinting at a sorrowful story that lay here. But he wouldn't ask, they’d just met and it _would_ be intrusive. 

When Isak looked up from the line of dogs, Even was staring at him with a playfully withered expression, as if he was both exasperated and entertained by Isak’s internal back and forth. 

_“What?”_ He asked as a sense of intimacy dawned on Isak. Could Even see him? See who he was? 

Even shook his head. “Nothing, there's just a lot of thinking that goes on in your head, isn't there?”  

“No more than anyone else.” 

Even snorted a laugh and Isak frowned at him. “Are you sure about that?”

He shrugged at the question. How much was someone supposed to think? And how did Even know how much he was thinking? But that easy smile eased away any self criticism. 

“I'm an open book, you can ask me anything.” 

Isak chewed his lip. “OK.”

Even smirked at him as he walked towards the door. “Whenever you feel comfortable to ask.” He gestured for Isak to exit first, who obliged and scurried past. The cabin was beginning to feel small. 

Once outside, his eyes scaled the landscape (the sea was turning to gold again; Isak would need to leave soon), before he turned back to Even, currently attaching a latch to keep the door of the cabin open for the animals to come and go as they pleased. 

Shifting from one foot to the other, he worried over the question that was burning in him. “So, do you mind if I come back? I understand if you don't-”

He cut off as Even snorted and turned to him, that relaxed but knowing expression burnt into Isak. “Of course I don't mind. It's nice to have some company,” he said, strolling towards the other, “and if I did have a problem with it, Winston would never forgive me. He told me you promised to go swimming with him.” 

Isak just stared open mouthed at Even. How could he know that? The serious expression that Even held broke into a smile as he laughed at Isak. 

“I'm kidding. Fish can't speak.” And there was that smirk that made the air around Isak thick and humid. “Wait,  _ did you _ ?” Even questioned when there was no reply. 

Isak nodded. “Yeah. kinda. He just looked like he wanted to play last week and I said I'd bring a towel. Or shorts.” 

“ _ You did _ ?” Even sounded delighted at the confession and Isak couldn't help but blush as he studied a pebble he was pushing around with the toe of his shoe. 

“I mean—it's stupid.” 

“No it's freezing in there, are you mad?” But the words were softened by the fondness that was evolving at an alarming rate. 

“Probably,” Isak admitted with a nervous laugh, “but it's the first time a fish wanted to play with me. I was  _ trying  _ to be polite.”

“Oh, you're so nice.” He cooed playfully, cocking his head to one side. It was familiar and  _ nice _ . That was about as close as Isak could come at explaining whatever  _ this  _ was. 

Even came to stand next to Isak and they both looked over the water towards the setting sun. It wasn’t uncomfortable but Isak found his head whirring with things he wanted to say, or questions that he wanted to ask. But there were so many, he didn’t have a grasp on one long enough to formulate words before it morphed into several separate tangents entirely. He wanted to sit and just let the words spill out but he couldn’t, he knew that it was time leave and he realised that fact reluctantly. And leaving had _never_ been a thing that Isak found difficult before.

“So, should I let you know if— _ when  _ I want to visit?”

“Just come when you want.” 

“You sure?” 

Even shrugged. “Of course. I don't have a phone anyway. Or Facebook or whatever. I don’t really need it.” 

“Oh.” Isak took a moment to wondered at the disappointment he felt simply because there was no way to contact his new acquaintance once he'd left. Could you miss someone after only meeting them once? “Well I'll probably come next week.” 

Even grinned at Isak. He seemed quietly pleased with whatever he could see unfold in Isak. “You're welcome whenever. I'll know when—the dogs tell me.” He said, quirking an eyebrow. 

Isak huffed a laugh. “It's a deal.” He licked his lips, wondering how they should part ways and wanting to ask something, anything to stay a little longer. Maybe he could ask if Even needed him to bring anything?

But before he could speak, Even turned towards the cliffs, seeking out his home before he let out a long and heavy sigh. “And I need to go, too.” he said finally and with evident regret. 

Isak frowned at the house, what had pulled Even’s attention away? A hand landed gently on his arm, bring Isak’s gaze back to focus on the eyes that were now on him; heat spread through him again at the tender contact. But he didn’t shy from it, he couldn’t. He didn't want to.

“I guess you know your way well enough to find yourself out safely?”

Isak swallowed, there was no way he could lie. Even knew how often he’d visited. “Yeah, I can do it blindfolded by now.” 

“Good.” the moment was soft, just like Even’s tone. 

Mouth dry, Isak simply nodded. He felt like there should be more, that he should say more but he was rooted to the spot and fumbling for sense. Even seemed to read him in the silence and stepped back, and as his hand left Isak so did that blissful warmth. 

“Don’t stay away too long,  _ Isak _ .” His name was teased and cradled in Even’s mouth as he smirked and began to walk backwards, away from Isak and towards a sturdy wooden staircase that led to the clifftop. 

And then Isak could breathe again, with the air came the rush of anticipation at his next visit and the knowledge that the days would be long between then and now. 

“I won’t,  _ Even _ .” he teased the other’s name right back. The sound of Even’s laughter was caught on the sea breeze, as his friend took to the staircase and began to stride up to the cliff top. 

Huffing a small and obstinate sigh, Isak turned towards the trees and the path that led to the entrance back into the colder, grayscale world that waited for him. But as each footstep was placed, he focussed on the spark that was now ignited within him and that he’d never felt before. 

Warmth was on his back again and Isak frowned at the sensation. He cast a last look over his shoulder before he disappeared between the trees only to find a figure on the cliffs. Despite the distance and the shadows casting a dark shade over Even, Isak knew it was him and he knew blue eyes held him. He couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips as he entered the forest.

Maybe it was Even that made this place so special, he thought before instantly reprimanding himself for such outlandish notions. It was absurd—of course it was— but it was also the only thing that made sense—and that had  _ ever  _ made sense to Isak. 


	3. Flights of Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do the birds usually return? Are they regulars?”
> 
> “Some do, most don’t. It’s not usually their nature. But the ones that return come again and again.”
> 
> “So, maybe we’ll see him again?”
> 
> “Maybe.” Even answered, smiling to himself. That was a side of humans that he liked; they were not so passive as Merfolk, becoming attached to nature that they can’t control. “Actually I think so. He had that look in his eye.” he teased, looking back over his shoulder.
> 
> Isak’s face was serious for a moment before he realised Even was making fun and rolled his eyes at the grin aimed at him. “It’s the first bird I’ve saved, ok? I was thinking of naming him.” he admitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here is another chapter. I haven't spent time anywhere but this world this week (*looks guiltily at mountain of WIP's), it's my happy place. I hope you enjoy... let me know if you do! <3
> 
> Love, Becs

Carefully, Even slid the container of food into his bag. It was his turn to provide lunch and he found himself oddly nervous about how Isak would find his cooking. According to Even’s mother, his grandfather—the human one—had been an excellent chef and the recipes were savoured  _ and  _ passed down. Even considered himself sufficient in the kitchen but not everyone  _ liked  _ vegetarian food.

Their meetings had become more frequent: from weekly at first to every few days now. It was the dawning of spring, everyday brought further life and light; everything seemed to thrive— _ including _ their friendship. Even had forgotten what it felt like to smile and laugh, they’d moved past general information about one another—likes and dislikes and hobbies etc.—to hypothesis on life and, more importantly, sharing stretches of silence that were completely comfortable. It was easy and natural, and Even already struggled to remember what life had been like without this new companionship

He’d shown Isak the woods, explained what needed to be done to care for the flora and fauna wildlife; the information had been soaked up. Even had watched as his ability to spot potential issues had flourished, pointing out plants that would need to be removed and even finding a fledgling that had fallen from its nest two weeks back.

Reminded of that, Even made his way to the sun room to collect the small cage that the bird had been occupying in his recovery—now in full health and ready to be released. He smiled at the small, chirping creature as it fluttered impatiently, anticipating it’s impending freedom. With both the bird and lunch in hand, Even was ready to leave. Isak was drawing nearer, knowing  _ and  _ feeling his presence made excitement coil and tighten in his stomach. It never lessened, it was a slow build to what Even could only imagine was a crescendo. What  _ that  _ would entail, he wasn’t sure. He only knew his own hopes, and those were never dwelt over long… it would hurt if they didn’t come to fruition.

“Are you seeing him again?” 

His hand was almost on the handle when he froze; the door in the sun room led out onto the old wooden staircase that ran from the cliff top down to the waterside. It had been here as long as the house had been built and yet it was still solid and firmly attached to the cliff. 

Even had hoped that he’d make it out today without suffering the lingering gaze of his mother, not a word had been said on the subject before now. In truth, the question was redundant, she would know exactly what was going on. She had instincts here too, as well as more knowledge than Even possessed on these matters—that much he was sure of. 

“I am.” he answered, glancing back into blue eyes that were nearly the twin of his own. Even expected to see anger, or at least irritation, at his disobedience to her wishes. Instead, he found sadness in her eyes.

She stared at him, to his eyes it seemed she held her breath. The past few years had not been kind on her, and it hadn’t helped that she’d spent so much time lost in the rooms built within her mind. Swimming through memories and years past, and oblivious to the years that had been passing Even by. 

She was beautiful—and always would be to him—but the sun gold of her hair was now silver, the skin around her eyes was paper thin and she seemed smaller. With every day that dawned she faded to Even’s eyes, and frustratingly there was nothing he could do about the life she choose to let slip through her fingers. 

And then she released her breath, with something akin to guilt and remorse. Perhaps she was recounting the lost moments between them too. “I should never have let you stay here with me. To watch me  _ leave _ . I knew you wanted to be free, I should have told you to go.”

“But I wouldn’t have left you. Not alone.”

She sighed, guilt quickly turning to exasperation. “Stubborn. Like your grandparents.”

Even frowned at the remark. Perhaps that had been weighing on her mind of late, maybe those were the memories she retreated to; the family that had dissolved in the sea. 

“I just want to feel _something_. Something that's _mine_.” he was surprised at the words as they left his lips— _ feel what? _ It was as though his urgings or subconscious knew something he did not. 

Her thin eyebrows rose at the words and defeat fell on her features. But she didn’t shrink back into herself, she simply looked at him from the crown of his head to his toes in a mournful way. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure he should leave her alone today. “Go then,” it was barely a whisper, “please, be careful.” the words were soft and there was a care there that Even hadn’t heard in too long.

He hesitated, worry creasing his brow. “I can stay—”

“No, no,” her tone was harassed now, “I don’t  _ need  _ you to watch me.”

“And you’ll be here when I get back?”

The look she levelled at him should have knocked him over in it’s offence. “Of course. You’ll know if I decide to go—I’ll need you.” 

Even swallowed and tried to breath easily after the air had been punched out of him with only a handful of words. it was the first time the subject had been breached in any manner. Yet he knew  _ somehow  _ that a point would come when she would return to the sea. The instinct told him it would be deeply sorrowful, not just for him but for the world around them, but he’d no idea what it entailed past that. So much he needed to know but instead remained ignorant, if only she would talk to him. 

Dropping his eyes to the floor he nodded. “I’ve made plenty of food, it’s in the fridge. Just let me know if you need me.” He heard her turn away from him as she left the room without a parting word, and—with a deep breath—he continued on his path. 

Reaching for the door, Even gripped the handle, yanked it open and stepped over the threshold, eager to be outside in the wind that curled around and cradled the house. The sea was always above everything else, it was like listening to the world’s slow and unstoppable breath, which—in turn—helped Even ease his own lungs, muscles began to relax as oxygen flooded his blood.

Looking down the stairs, the morbid mind-set was shrugged free instantly as he saw Isak—sat with his back pressed against the cabin and for once waiting for Even. Striding down the stairs, as carefully as was necessary with the bird and lunch in hand, he couldn’t stop the smile that was a direct result of being in close proximity to Isak. He  _ should  _ have felt guilt at his sudden mood change, but he couldn’t being himself to feel anything other than delight at this one element within his life that gave him elation. 

Isak walked out to meet him and, as they met at the bottom of the steps, Even drew up short. 

“ _ Hi _ !” he announced warmly, their reunions were becoming more complex, if not quite uncomfortable. Did they embrace? He felt there should be more.

“ _ Hey _ . What’s today’s order?” 

“Well,” he began, taking the bag of food from his shoulder and placing it on the ground before moving towards the shoreline, “first we need to let this one go.” The cage was set down first before Even sat on the damp gravelly sand with the waterline a few meters away from his outstretched feet. Isak was beside him in a heartbeat, casting a quizzical look at Even after he sat unmoving for a while.

“What are we waiting for?”

Instead of answering, Even nodded just over Isak’s shoulder. As he turned to follow the gesture, he was met by a wet lick to his jaw. He still hadn’t heeded Even’s warnings about Applesauce’s free tongue. 

“I didn’t know you were following.” Isak half spluttered and laughed as he was set upon.

“She always comes for this bit. It’s a tradition.” he took the cage and set it in his lap as Applesauce settled on her haunches next to Isak. “Legend has it, she saved the first bird here and it’s been her duty to watch them go ever since.” he could see Isak thinking about the statement. He should be more careful about the things he said, he didn’t want to lie if Isak decided to ask the myriad of questions that constantly flooded his mind. “And I always see it as a sign of good luck.” Reaching into the cage, his long fingers enclosed around and cradled the tiny bird, who allowed itself to be handled. He held it out towards the dog first to let her have a sniff—that was customary too. Then he offered the fragile animal to Isak. 

He blinked as his hands reached up hesitantly. “You want me to do it?”

Even hummed. “You found him.”

Grinning, Isak’s hands gently closed around Even’s and—where their bodies connected—there was that blessed cool that always danced tingling patterns across his skin and soul whenever they touched. It was addictive and seemed to engrave a new language into him that he wasn’t yet fluent in but was starting to recognise. 

“Ok.” Isak spoke softly, his focus on the bird as Even passed it to him. Then those deep green eyes looked up to him and Even forgot what he was doing and where they were. It was such an earthy hue, just like the woods as they were now—in the spring. These moments happened from time to time, he was sure Isak felt them too. Lost from all the world but  _ with  _ one another. The grin that carved deep lines into his cheeks hinted that Isak  _ knew  _ this was such an instance for Even. “So, what do I do?”

Even cleared his throat. “You just open up your hands and let him take his time.”

All three sets of eyes turned on the bird as Isak slowly unfurled his hands; beady black eyes watched them back before it hopped a few times and spread its wings. With a chirp of thanks, the creature took to the air, soaring smoothly into the air currents to find somewhere to settle and call home.

It was Applesauce who stood and broke the stillness of the group first, waddling back to the cabin.

“And next,” Even said, still watching the fading speck of black before it disappeared from view completely, “I have lunch with me and I wanted to show you somewhere new.” he added, eyes returning to his friend.

Isak’s gaze flitted up to the clifftop before meeting Even’s. The question didn’t need to be asked. “No, you don’t want to meet  _ her  _ today.” he replied with a laugh. “Come on.” He nudged against Isak’s shoulder before standing and dusting the damp sand from the seat of his jeans. Even  _ felt  _ Isak follow him. 

Grabbing the lunch bag in his free hand, Even led the way to the base of the wooden stairs. Instead of ascending, he stooped under them, leading the way to a hidden crevice that opened into a cool passage, carved through the rock. 

He could sense Isak absorbing this new secret, without looking Even knew his head was upturned to study the rock he was passing through, fingertips grazing over the walls. By now he was aware even before Isak was going to speak that words were forming on his tongue.

“Do the birds usually return? Are  _ they  _ regulars?”

“Some do, most don’t. It’s not usually their nature. But the ones that return come again and again.”

“So, maybe we’ll see him again?”

“Maybe.” Even answered, smiling to himself. That was a side of humans that he liked; they were not so passive as Merfolk, becoming attached to nature that they can’t control. “Actually I think so. He had that look in his eye.” he teased, looking back over his shoulder.

Isak’s face was serious for a moment before he realised Even was making fun and rolled his eyes at the grin aimed at him. “It’s the first bird I’ve saved, ok? I was thinking of naming him.” he admitted. 

Even turned to face him, walking backwards and unable to stop the delight from oozing from him. “You were? That’s so cute.” And he couldn’t help the chuckle that followed when that now familiar shy blush crept over Isak’s skin.

“You do it all the time!” he began defensively, but he wore his own grin too. 

“That's true. Maybe I even had a name for  _ you  _ before you told me the one you had for yourself.” he couldn't help but laugh at the indignation on Isak’s face. His mouth opened to retort but—as Even’s feet fell on soft sand—Isak’s words were lost as his eyes darted around them to take in the new spectre. 

“Woah.” was all Isak managed to mouth. Even simply absorbed his reactions, pleased at the wonder he could feel emanating from him.

“It's a cove, the sea is on the other side of that wall,” he pointed to where the muted crash of waves could be heard, “and just over there,” he shifted his hand to where the wall sloped towards the water level of the pool, sheltered within the enclosed cave, “there's an underwater passage that takes you back to the inlet.” Isak followed where he pointed. 

“It's warm in here— _ and _ light.” 

“There's lots of cracks and crevices that the sun manages to find up high, and the crystals in the rock make it glow— _ I think _ . But I've always thought it was magical.” Even said looking around the cavern, just like Isak was for the first time. It wasn't hard to be in awe, despite spending most of his life here. 

“Like a world within a world.” Isak observed.

Even sat down and began to unpack the food, waiting patiently for Isak to join him. ”It is, even the water is usually warm—well, warmer than outside.”

“Really?” Even hummed confirmation, dusting his hands clean before opening the containers. “I might put my feet in then. After lunch.” Isak added, taking his place at Even’s side.

“Be careful, Winston will sniff you out within a minute and you'll be playing hide and seek for the rest of the afternoon.” 

Isak laughed at his words. “I can imagine worse ways to spend the afternoon.” he paused for a moment staring at where the roof met the water. “Have you gone through the tunnel before?” he picked up the container that Even had put his food in. It was quiche; one of the old family recipes. 

“I have,” he said after swallowing his mouthful, “but…” he looked at Isak not sure how to word things without it sounding odd, “it takes a lot of practise to hold your breath that long.” 

“I think I could do it.” Isak squinted at where the tunnel was, like he would be able to make out the length of the passage simply by scowling at it. Even had to repress his amusement; he wasn't laughing  _ at  _ Isak but the human was too endearing not to spark pleasure in him with almost any word or action. 

“I'm sure you could. But maybe when it's not so cold.” 

“Deal.” said Isak, before taking his first bite of food. Even watched him intently, trying to gauge his reaction. Relief flooded him as Isak hummed in approval. “This is good.” he exclaimed going back for more. 

“I'm happy you like it.” His sentiment was wholly genuine.

“You made it?” 

Even nodded. “It's a recipe that’s been passed down in the family. But I  _ could  _ show you how to make it one day, if you want.” He leant in towards Isak, imparting on him conspiratorial information. “The secret is sour cream.” 

Isak nodded as he ate. “Yeah, why not? I can't cook much more than noodles.” 

Laughing, Even countered. “I can make up for the both of us there. I'm cooking almost every day.” 

“Is your mum looking for a lodger?” Isak chuckled along with him. 

“You'd get bored out here.” 

“No. I don't think so.” Isak murmured, looking intently at the food in his fingers.  _ Too  _ intently. But before Even had a chance to needle at the meaning behind his words, Isak cleared his throat to continue. “Did your mum home-school you?” 

Even cocked his head to one side, giving Isak a sidelong look. “Why do you ask?” 

Shrugging, Isak scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I can't imagine you going to school. I mean that I'd guess by the way your mum seems, she'd keep you close.” 

Even nodded. “My dad made sure I went to junior school—there's one a few miles inland. But I struggled when I got older to cope around others. So, at that point she did home-school me— _ and  _ my dad.” 

“You struggled around others? What do you mean?” Isak was getting braver with his questions and Even allowed himself the smile that insisted its appearance. He liked talking to Isak about himself and  _ that  _ was unique. He'd never felt the need or desire to talk about himself to anyone. 

“People call it an empathy disorder. It just means I feel for people— _ acutely _ . When I was a child it became stressful to deal with so many emotions second hand and I’d have periods where I’d be extremely excitable and then extremely low. Add in hormones…,” Even made a low whistling sound, like a kettle blowing it's lid, “you can imagine.” 

Isak stared at him. “Do you feel what I feel?” 

Even nodded. “I can. But you're remarkably stable— _ logical _ . Its grounding when I'm around you.” he couldn't help but laugh at Isak’s shock, he could feel him grappling for words as his mouth moved fruitlessly. 

“Do you know what I'm thinking?” 

“I'm not telepathic.” Even snorted. 

Isak nodded slowly as the information sunk in. “It's just sometimes… it doesn't matter.” Even studied him as he shook his head and took another bite of food. Isak still held back at times but Even wouldn't push him. “Do you feel what the animals feel?” 

Even blinked, blindsided by Isak’s astute question. He didn't want to lie but this could lead to a conversation he wasn't sure he was ready for; nervousness was another new emotion.

“Would you think I was mad if I said yes?” 

“No.” The answer was instant and honest.

“OK, well yes. I do.”  

And he wasn't sure what he expected in the form of a reaction but it wasn't the simple nod that Isak gave him, accompanied by that sweet smile. “Figures.” he added.

“It does?” Even narrowed his eyes inquisitively. 

“Yeah. You're so in tune with everything around you. It's amazing.” 

And for once it was heat that rose in Even’s cheeks. He’d never had anyone consider the unique qualities specific to his kin as amazing—at best he was the weird one at school. “I don't know what to say. It's not amazing, it's just a part of me.” 

“I guess that makes  _ you _ amazing then.”  

Even eyed Isak suspiciously, trying to work out the tease that he was sure was implied but all he could feel—as Isak busied himself with his food—was honesty. It was his turn to be speechless. Could it be possible that Isak might easily accept what he was? 

“So,” Isak continued, “you stayed home since then? You know, apart from going out for  _ things _ .” 

“No, I went back for college. She  _ hated  _ that.” 

Isak huffed, was it disapproval he could hear? “I bet she did.” he turned to Even, waiting for him to continue. “So,” he said once there was a pause, “did it improve. The…  _ disorder _ ?” 

Even shrugged. “Yes and no. I became resilient. But the highs and lows became  _ more  _ extreme when I felt them.” he stared at a slither of light that flooded in from a crack up high in the cliff, chewing his lip before he decided to open up. “And some doctors tried to help. Tried to  _ tell _ me how I felt but I hated that even more. They spoke so much sense but it was bullshit. When everything I felt was buried under the emotions of strangers,  _ I  _ couldn't work it out—how I felt. How could  _ they  _ know?” And Even had always felt frustrated that none of them could relate, he could never tell them exactly why he was how he was. There was always that secret that had to be maintained, and so he was treated as the special case that everyone thought he was. No one had been willing to try to understand what was beneath his flesh. Until now. Until Isak.

“Only you can feel, what you feel.” Isak’s words were soft but profound. Even felt an urge that was becoming harder and harder to deny: to reach towards Isak and touch him, trace his jaw and feel his skin press against Even’s own, to feel their hearts beat in sync. The need was so crippling now that it was hard to breathe. But could he?  _ Should _ he? 

Isak’s words seemed to soothe wounds Even didn't know existed and he wanted to repay him, and the only ways his mind could conjure recompense was using his body and mouth. He  _ had  _ to stop thinking like this. Not whilst he held a secret behind his back. 

Clearing his throat, Even turned to Isak who was studying him with concern. “I thought you were going to dip your feet in?—After eating?” He gestured at the empty container in Isak’s lap. 

Isak frowned down, surprised the food had vanished so quickly. “OK. But if there's more of that I'll take some after.” he grinned at Even before kicking off his shoes and rolling up his jeans up to his knees. 

“Oh there's more.” said Even, pleasure bloomed in him to know he could nourish Isak—even if it was by food alone right now. He’d always felt simple duty caring for others, it was his purpose as a Merman after all; a neutral force of nature that helped look after the world where no one else did. He never questioned that caring need that was as easy and necessary as breathing to him. But caring for Isak was altogether something rare and precious. He wouldn't find it again, Even trusted his instincts on this matter at least.

“And I don't think even meat would have made it any better.” Isak shot him a smirk as he stood and waded into the water. 

Even shook his head. Isak was probably more dumbfounded at finding out his companion didn't eat meat than he  _ would  _ be discovering that a tail and scales replaced Even’s legs if he spent much more than half an hour in salt water. But he liked the inevitable jesting jibes thrown his was from Isak, they could both give as much as they took. “You coming?” He asked, calf deep in crystalline water. “It  _ is _ warm.” 

“No, I'll just watch.” Even grinned. And it was quite some picture; as well as the beauty of this particular human taking Even's breath away _at least_ once every few minutes, he could easily lose hours at a time just watching Isak for all the small expressions that he made and seemed unaware of and the way his mind absorbed things. Even was truthful when he said he was not telepathic but sometimes he did seem to know what Isak was thinking. 

“What's wrong, huh?” turning, Isak kicked water at Even. “Webbed feet?” 

Even snorted a laugh, dodging most of the spray sent his way. “Something like that.” 

There was a large boulder in the middle of the pool, around the edge of which—and hidden underwater—were smaller sharp rocks that Isak wouldn't see; he was wading close to them now. Even opened his mouth to give warning but, before he could speak, a dark shape submerged in the water reached the back of Isak’s legs first, bumping into them. 

Winston had caught him off guard and Even could only watch as Isak leapt forward with a yelp, hurtling towards the boulder and the jagged rocks, before the sound of surprise turned into a gasp of pain. Isak was hopping on one foot and Even didn't even have to ask to know, he’d felt the edge of basalt as it sliced into Isak’s skin more vividly than he'd felt anyone else's pain before—like it was his own. 

It wasn’t until the sensation of soaked denim clinging to his skin registered that Even became aware that he’d ran into the water, still wearing shoes and jeans. He didn’t stop until he had an arm slung around his shoulder, assisting a limping Isak onto the sand. 

Winston swirled in the water nervously at the blood he could taste. “It's OK, Winston. I've got it.” he murmured in a soothing tone. The fish slowed it's erratic dance and wiggled it's way into the shallows, until his belly rested on the sand and his nose was poking out of the water. If the fish had been human he'd be babbling apologies right now. 

Having helped Isak sit down, Even turned his focus on the wound. Dropping to his knees, he took the injured foot and laid it gently in his lap. Barely maintained the irritation that flared in him to see blood running from the broken and torn skin, Even made a concise summary of the damage. “It’s clean but deep.”

“I’m fine-” Isak began to protest, but his words halted as Even looked at him. The expression he wore must have been stern because Isak’s eyes widened. Perhaps not with worry but at least surprise at the intensity suddenly pouring into Even.

“No, you’re not.” he said coolly. “This is not fine, it’s my fault. I should have told you to stay clear of the rocks.”

Isak snorted his disagreement. “It was an accident. No one is at fault.”

Frowning, Even found that sentiment hard to accept. But blame had to wait, he needed to fix Isak. 

“It’s not that bad.” Isak added before wincing at the most delicate touch from Even, tracing the length of the wound with his finger. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Even murmured absentmindedly as he wiped away the blood with the sleeve of his jumper.

“Don’t do that—you’ll ruin it. Just use my sock.” he flapped a hand in the direction of his shoes and socks.

“I’m not worried about my jumper, Isak, I’m worried about your foot.” He bit his lip, the blood wouldn’t clot on its own for a while. He needed bandages. “I guess today is the day you meet the old witch on the cliff.” He glanced up from his study with a grin to find Isak looking mildly terrified. “And I don’t want you to complain when I princess carry you up the stairs—you can’t hop all the way.” Isak looked about to speak but Even cut in. “There’s no arguing. Unless you want me to sling you over my shoulder instead?” The nerves were quickly replaced by indignation. 

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would.” Even warned.

 


	4. Frogs and Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sorry.” Even was back to that serene voice that had a mystical effect on Isak. The sting evaporated like water droplets on a hot skillet. 
> 
> “Its fine. You know, I have been hurt worse than this before.” The look that Isak earned was not one of reconsideration, it was a non verbal scolding for all those past injuries. 
> 
> “That doesn't make me feel any better. Should I follow you around in case you need a nurse?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another chapter! Enjoy and let me know what you think <3
> 
> Love,  
> Becs

It wasn't so much undignified as it was unnerving when Isak was gathered up in arms—sure and capable—to be carried as easily as if he were a baby. Even had been careful with how he’d placed his feet on each step but he was so resilient, even when the wind whipped their hair about as they neared the cliff top, nothing seemed to touched him. 

And it wasn't just that, as the days had unfolded and their friendship blossomed an intimacy had developed that—until that point—had been metaphysical. But now he was pressed close to Even’s chest with no other option than to cling to him, and feel small and weak in comparison. It had been hard not to release the tension on a sigh and let his head rest on Even’s shoulder.

But he was unsure; every time a moment submerged them both and he was sure Even would reach for him, something stopped him and Isak couldn't puzzle out what caused the trepidation. 

So, a small battle had been fought within Isak’s skull: the doubts that held him back warred against the smell and feel of this person—who he’d made this undeniable connection with—they compelled him to throw caution to the wind. Isak wanted nothing more than to melt into Even and absorb him more than he already had. It was a maddening dichotomy that intensified with every beat of Even’s heart that pounded unnaturally loudly in his ears.

Isak was sure—on this occasion, at least—that Even was unaware of his dilemma; he wore a solemn expression on his usually soft features that were normally a hair's breadth from delight, right now that face was stony hard. His gaze had been fixed on his intended goal—the house on the clifftop—where Isak could only imagine he would find himself wrapped in cotton wool and swaddled. Grinning at the notion, he thought perhaps there should be some measure of defensiveness over this coddling, but he couldn't remember anyone being this concerned about him. It was  _ nice. _

The house came into full view as they topped the stairs: sprawling over several floors and with walls that were more glass than brick on the sea facing side—he'd want to enjoy the view as much as possible too if he lived here. The sea stretched out before them and it was the  _ only  _ thing that existed from up here. It took Isak’s breath away, that gentle heave of the ocean was all encompassing and he had the notion that you could quite happily spend  _ years  _ here without realising time had passed by.

Even shouldered the door open into a glass conservatory, filled to bursting with lush green plants and colourful flowers Isak didn't recognise, before he cautiously set Isak down in a comfortable chair. Even stripped his jumper off and rested it under Isak’s foot as it was placed carefully on a stool, before something was mumbled about water and bandages and he strode purposefully from the room. 

Isak was quickly distracted by the setting. It was unsettling on one hand, sitting in the house that had constantly been at the back of his mind—filled with so much mystery and a foreboding he couldn’t explain in the shape of Even’s mum. And yet he was in a space that was the epicentre of that nurturing environment of this world, where other strays and injured animals were taken in. Was  _ he  _ a stray? He supposed that he was—and he hoped that he could stay, or at least keep returning to this place. 

His lungs were filled with the scent of soil, rich and dark in colour,  _ and  _ pollen from a myriad of brightly coloured flowers. If he closed his eyes—along with the warmth streaming through the glass—he could be in a rainforest. There were tomato plants, and herbs hanging from the wall in pots, chilli plants and baby satsumas lined the window sills; all thriving  _ despite  _ what season or climate they preferred. 

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Isak turned to see a small black pair of eyes staring at him from a large, waxy leaf near his shoulder—and _ of course  _ there would be a frog here. Why not? It croaked once in greeting before hopping down through the leaves. Isak heard a splash of—what he  _ imagined  _ to be—some hidden and improvised miniature pool that the frog was returning to.

Even bustled back through into the room: a towel over his shoulder, a bowl of water in one hand and bandages and salves in the other. His eyes immediately dropped to the foot extended on the stool. 

“I think it's stopped bleeding.” Isak offered, smiling at Even and hoping it might break through his urgent intensity. 

“You'll still need it bandaged and cleaned, just in case there's anything stuck in there. You won't be able to put any pressure on it for a while.” Pulling up a chair, Even sat the water down and settled where he could tend the wound. 

“You said it was a clean cut?” He mused, unperturbed by his injured appendage, despite the dull throb that eminated from where the rock had bitten into his skin.

“I might have been wrong.” Somehow Isak doubted that was the case. But the way Even spoke was soft and at a frequency that made peace settle inside of Isak. Fingertips ran over the wound and—surprisingly—the area felt numbed. “The salve might sting a little; you'll have to try and relax, OK?” 

“I don't think that will be hard.” Isak chuckled, the warmth and the aura of Even seemed to lull him. He could probably sleep right here. 

Even got to work, gently moving the foot now in his lap to see within the cut and clean it with the water, which tingled when it was wiped over his skin. 

“There's a frog in here.” Isak murmured, he was trying to talk to keep away the drowsiness.

Even snorted. “My mum's.” He replied, engrossed with his work. “Well,  _ actually  _ they probably think  _ she  _ is  _ theirs _ .” He elaborated. 

“What do you mean?” 

Even peered up at him and Isak was powerless to stop his grip tighten on the arms of the chair. Warm and caring hands were on his bare skin and those deep eyes looked so far into him. The intensity was not distinguished in the slightest but there was something else there now: the edge of an emotion Isak couldn't put his finger on in his induced stupor. But it made every muscle within him tighten with anticipation. 

Dropping his gaze, Even returned to his work but not before Isak caught a smile pull at his lips; he could feel the reaction that was caused by his eyes alone. “If I left the door open,” he nodded in the direction of the door that led outside, “we’d be overthrown by frogs in the morning. They were her favourite animal when she was a child—bringing them up here and looking after them. And  _ apparently  _ they won’t let her forget it.”

It was bizarre but no more so than a dogfish that played hide and seek. “Does he have a name?  _ Or her _ .”

“Their sex doesn’t really matter, it can change with frogs.” Even replied, absentmindedly.

“ _ Really _ ?”

“Yep. They become what nature needs of them. You could always try and ask what pronoun they prefer. But him or her or  _ they _ , my mum gave up naming them long ago.”

Frowning, Isak absorbed the information. “Well,” he proclaimed, “I name  _ this  _ frog Freddy.” 

Even’s smirked at him  “Freddy the frog?” And Isak hummed confirmation. “That's  _ so _ original.” he added, not caring to hide his sarcasm but at least the serious bent of mind was dissipating. 

“That's what I thought.” Isak grinned. 

“You're really very impressive, I'm  _ so  _ impressed with your name choosing skills.” he embellished, ladling snark onto his words liberally. 

Isak began to laugh at the jibe being aimed at him before hissing as the salve was applied. 

“Sorry.” Even was back to that serene voice that had a mystical effect on Isak. The sting evaporated like water droplets on a hot skillet. 

“Its fine. You know, I  _ have  _ been hurt worse than this before.” The look that Isak earned was not one of reconsideration, it was a non verbal scolding for all those past injuries. 

“That doesn't make me feel any better. Should I follow you around in case you need a nurse?” A gauze was laid on his sole, followed by a pad of cotton wool, and then Even’s deft hands were winding bandage around the foot. Isak studied him closely, his movements were always sure and graceful, even in this. It was hypnotic.

“I don't need a nurse,” said Isak tartly before his voice softened, “but I wouldn't complain if you followed me around.” The fingers stopped in their movement but Even didn't look up at him. Isak was surprised at how candid he was becoming; he felt he could say the words he thought, despite holding back his questions on the things he sensed Even didn’t know how or  _ if _ to say. 

There was a pause and Isak worried that he might have been too open. Even was already crouched over his foot, held carefully in his grasp, but now he brought it up slowly as his face lowered. The moment stretched out before a soft kiss was laid on the bandage, just over where the tended wound was. Fingertips caressed Isak’s skin while the supplication was made, and he found he couldn't move or breathe. 

Just as fast as it had happened, Even sat up, still unable to look at Isak. “Sorry.” he repeated. 

“For what?” Isak whispered, managing to find the air he needed to speak. The words brought Even’s gaze up to his and in that moment Isak felt emotions reflect and connect: longing, hope, fear… Where they his or Even’s? But he couldn't  _ feel  _ emotion like Even could.

There was no answer and Isak found a question tumble from his lips that came from nowhere. “What was the name you made up for me? You know—before I told you my name?” 

Even just stared at him, until he found the ability to move his mouth. “I'll tell you soon.” It was half an apology for not being able to answer truthfully, and for whatever this  _ thing  _ was that Even held back. 

“OK. But you  _ can _ tell me anything. There's nothing you could say that would stop me from liking you.”  _ Liking? _ It wasn't the correct term by a long shot. He far more than liked Even. Could he feel that, too?

And as Even continued to stare at him, Isak felt a reverse for the first time. It was he that felt compelled to reach towards Even: hold him, touch him, assure him. The sensation was so overwhelming that he almost sat up and reached for him. 

Before he could muster the courage to move, Even cleared his throat, “I… uh-” but whatever it was he was going to say was lost as soft footfalls announced the arrival of someone else in the room. 

“I wasn't aware we had company, Even.” The voice was silk over steel and Isak’s nerves returned immediately as they sliced through the air.

The person that stood in the room with them was the picture of elegance: silver white hair flowed in long waves to the dainty figure’s waist, she was slender and short in comparison to her son and enveloped in a simple white cotton gown. There was a quality to her that Isak could only describe as translucent, as though she was a temporary spectre with the ability to fade as and when it was wished—which was preposterous, of course. Her face was both serene and impassive, any thoughts she might be having—upon finding Isak in her home—were not betrayed by her features. And her eyes were like Even’s: a sea blue, except flecks of amber glinted there, just how the sun spills gold onto the waves at sunset. 

Even had turned as soon as he'd heard her footsteps, he looked shocked that she'd surprised him. Come to think of it, Isak had never seen Even surprised by anyone's apparition. He seemed to know which dog was sneaking from a bush at his back, or when Winston was in the depths beneath their feet on the jetty. Perhaps it was something to do with feeling them through their emotions. Did people  _ feel  _ different to Even?

“He hurt his foot. I needed to fix it.” With the defence clear in Even’s voice, Isak wouldn't have been surprised if he'd stood to face her in defiance. Instead there was a long and uncomfortable silent exchange between them. 

Finally, her eyes broke from his, and Isak was halfway through his sigh of relief before he tensed again as she turned on him. Where Even’s gaze seemed to delve him with a curious but delicate manner, she stripped and weighed and measured: from the hair on his head until she reached his bandaged foot.

“It was an accident, Even was only trying to help.” Isak began, wondering why he was venturing on to this battleground. 

She shook her head minimally and offered a small, tight smile. “I can see that. Who cuts their foot on purpose?” 

A nervous laugh bubbled from him, unsure whether it was a question or a joke. Her lingering gaze was considering before she turned back to her son.

“He has to stay off it.” She spoke, for all the world, as if Isak was no longer in the room.

“I've already told him that.” 

She tilted her head to one side, looking on the verge of addressing Even’s tone. “That means he will need to stay here— _ overnight _ .” her words were clipped; she was stating a fact that was not necessarily unwelcomed but just  _ was _ . 

Even shook his head. “No, I can drop him off-”

“You will  _ not _ ,” she cut him off sharply, “I don’t like you driving at night in town. You  _ know  _ that.” 

Isak swallowed. He wanted to wade into the debate but between the two of them, he thought he would be canon fodder. Despite that, his mouth didn’t want to stay shut. “It’s fine, I can cycle like this. I’ll just try to use my left foot more…” Both pairs of eyes turned to him now and Isak flinched, trying to melt into the chair and away from their fight for dominance over his care. It was  _ just  _ a cut—he reminded himself—not having the courage right now to mutter it aloud. 

“The wound will open if you use it.” Even’s mum asserted, with her hands on her hips as though explaining something simple to a child. “ _ Cycling _ !” She huffed under her breath in a disbelieving manner. 

“It could get infected.” Even offered.

Isak frowned. So now they were working as a team?

“And the doctor on campus is useless anyway—if you needed to be re-bandaged. Even will drop you off in the morning.” She nodded perfunctorily, the decision now made and affirmed. Turning back to Even, she continued her instruction, “You’ll have to make him comfortable in the living room, ready one of the spare rooms  _ and  _ fetch his bike.” Even just gaped at her as he nodded his accord.

“Thank you,  _ Mrs… _ ” Isak trailed off, embarrassed that it had come to this point—after however many weeks—for him to realise that he didn’t know what Even’s surname was.

She sniffed. “Mischa.  _ Just  _ Mischa.” 

Isak smiled tremulously, “I’m-”

“Isak. Yes, I know.” Her words were firm, but the smile she gave him was a little easier now. Perhaps she was trying to make him feel comfortable as unpractised as she evidently was at entertaining.

“I’ll have a look in the kitchen; dinner won’t make itself.” And with that she turned gracefully, disappearing into the house with just the soft sounds that the bare soles of her feet made as they whisked across the wooden floor. 

“Well,” Even said as he came back to himself and turned to Isak, “that will be the first time she’ll have cooked in… a  _ while _ .” 

“I think we should probably do as she says.” Isak chuckled.

“I think you’re probably right— _ and _ she’ll like you if you keep that up.”

Isak shrugged, smirking back at Even. “Mums  _ always  _ love me.”

* * *

 

Stretched out and laying on his back, Isak could do nothing but absorb his dwellings. Even had settled him on the couch and insisted he laid with his foot on a cushion and so—for a quiet life—Isak had obliged. The journey to the living room had been a series of awkward hops whilst half draped over Even; their proximity hadn't been the cause of unease but, more so, the additional person who bustled in and out of the room, doing  _ things. _

And then Even had set out on his series of missions whilst Isak sat alone in a grandiose living room: high ceilings and open planned. There was a mezzanine that encircled the room, accessible by a ladder. The upper level housed shelves full to bursting with books. Isak decided he probably wouldn't live long enough to read even  _ half  _ of that library. Curiosity pulled at him, he wanted to scale the wooden ladder and peruse the titles. But the skin would probably be flayed from his body with the rough side of Misha’s tongue if he even  _ thought  _ about climbing the ladder. Isak decided he preferred his hide intact.

The decor was simple: dark floorboards and cream walls, but the focus was the wall of glass—one pane of which was a sliding door that led onto a neatly paved patio, surrounded by shrubberies. Old, weathered furniture sat out on the paving that had seen better days. It  _ had  _ been a family home, that much was evident without the photos that were dotted around the room, dispersed between ostentatious statues and paintings; a  _ refined  _ family home then. 

There was a cabinet housing a multitude of family photos, the shelves crammed with them, all except the top shelf that held a simple white cup, it looked as if it had been pieced back together and cemented with a sparkling blue substance. Mysteries within mysteries, Isak decided. He was sure everything in this room had some intriguing story behind it. The entire space felt entrenched with history.

Squint as he might, Isak couldn't make out the pictures from his position and his curiosity was starting to overcome his fear and obligation to lay still. He listened out briefly for Even’s mum; she hadn't returned to the room for a while now and it sounded like dinner was underway, the scents wafting through to him made his stomach complain.  _ Perhaps  _ it wouldn't be so hard to give up meat after all if all the food here smelled and tasted as good as what he had experienced so far. 

Isak eased himself up and hobbled slowly to the cabinet, using the back of the sofa to take some of his weight. When he reached his intended goal, a grin spread on Isak’s face as he took in the moments captured and laid out before him. Even was easy to make out at any age: a mop of gold hair and that same charming smile seemed to adorn him in every photo, regardless of whether he was clinging to his mother's leg with a toy car in one hand or whether he was wearing graduation robes. 

Even’s mum was obvious too, she’d always been graceful and light. But in these pictures her hair was spun gold and an easy smile graced her: wide and warm. There was a dark haired man by her side in many of the pictures who Isak deduced must be Even’s dad. A pang of sadness ached deep inside him when he looked back on their family days; the absent figure couldn't have been that old when he'd died and become cut from the memories.

And then there were pictures before Even was born—Isak supposed—Mischa as a young girl with another dark haired child, shorter than her. A sister perhaps. And with them, two men: one taller and light haired with a face composed of planes and sharp angles, and the other dark and shorter with hair curling around his face and eyes that were bright blue—even in these faded pictures. So was one of them Even’s grandad? He could see no evidence of a matriarch prior to Mischa. 

“You're supposed to be off your foot.” 

Isak jumped at the sound of Mischa's voice at his shoulder. How did they both manage to sneak up on him like that? 

“I-uh—just wanted to look at these.” he gestured at the cabinet. 

Her look was reprimanding, but she pursed her lips as if trying to repress a smile. “I can see  _ that _ .” 

“It's nosy of me, I'll just sit. Sorry.”

As he turned to move, she touched his arm gently and he stilled. “Its ok. We all get curious, it's how we learn. Did you find Even?” 

Isak huffed a laugh. “He's hard to miss.” 

“ _ That's _ true.” She admitted, and the smile had won the war. It was a gentle expression Mischa wore as she turned to the cabinet. “You see the dark haired girl,” Isak nodded, “that's my sister: Abigail.” 

“Does she live close?”

She tilted her head to one side, considering. “She always had the travelling bug, never stayed in one spot long. But I haven't seen her in a long time.” 

“She's very pretty.” Isak said, it was hard for him to know what questions to ask without it pointing out some area of possible sadness. He didn’t want to make Even’s mum morose, something told him she was  _ too  _ familiar with that emotion.

“She is.” Misha agreed before pointing to a picture of the two men, sat on the jetty with a dog that looked like Applesauce—which, of course, couldn't be the case. “That's Even’s grandparents— _ my _ parents.” 

Isak held back his surprise but his mouth was open as he struggled with the questions that wanted to come. Two grandfathers… which one was the biological one? Or perhaps Mischa and Abigail had been adopted? But they looked so similar, Even favoured the taller man—it was undeniable, the resemblance. But these were questions much too personal to ask right now. Instead, Isak just nodded. After all, families came in all shapes and sizes; what business was it of his? 

As he turned back to Mischa, she wore the same expression Even gave him when he'd been caught out over thinking. “They look happy.” he said softly. 

“They were— _ well _ , they had their share of problems but there was no keeping them apart.” A sadness descended on her quickly, and that harder facade settled on her features. “You should sit.” It wasn’t a suggestion however, and the look she gave him was a command of its own.

Isak complied, limping back around to the couch before her hands began to guide him. The support Mischa offered surprised Isak in its strength. 

“So, Isak,” she began as he sat down, “what about your own family? Are you close?” Mischa sat herself next to him in a precise manner, peering at him in that terrifying way that was natural to her. 

Shrugging, he tried to figure out how to answer the question. “I suppose, we live close to each other—before I moved out here anyway. We have our issues—”

“Your parents have issues?” She cut in, astutely. 

“Yeah,” Isak nodded, “not with me. They think I’m  _ fine _ . But my mum has…” he was unsure how to concisely explain his mother’s mental health—he didn’t talk about that with anyone, “she struggles with reality, and that puts a strain on them. I try not to give them anything else to worry about.”

She studied him before giving her response. “You keep your problems to yourself?” Isak nodded. “And so they think you have none?”

“I guess so.” It was one of the reasons he always felt so alone, whenever there had been a problem that he’d needed help with, things were too stressful at home to go to anyone. So he’d had to cope on his own. 

“That can be isolating.” She ran a finger slowly down the arm of the couch that she leaned against. “Do you find solace here?”

Isak felt his cheeks heat, it was a blunt question that he felt compelled to answer. “I feel like I  _ know  _ myself here.” he stammered in reply.

She nodded, a grim expression replaced the coolness that was present with her questioning. “Sometimes it’s enough just to know yourself. Some people are made to be alone in life, we find places and people  _ temporarily  _ to help us survive in our solitude—they make us stronger. Maybe that’s what  _ this  _ is for you.”

Isak felt the bottom of his stomach fall out. She thought he was made to be alone?  _ How _ ? But the notion echoed too closely to what Isak had always believed.  _ Temporary people and places? _ And it was  _ then  _ that Isak realised he’d come to consider his connection here to be a permanent thing; he wanted to stay  _ with  _ Even. And here she was telling him he was to embrace solitude. He didn’t want to be alone. In a flash, Isak switched from a despairing acceptance of her words—and of what he  _ used  _ to believe—to a fierce stubbornness. 

Opening his mouth, he prepared the courage to rebuke her estimations. But just as he was choosing his words, a door banged shut and Even’s head popped into the sitting room. 

“It was a good idea to get the bike,” he said, shifting from foot to foot as he toed off his shoes, “It’s going to rain tonight.”

Mischa stood as smoothly as she’d sat down. “Good, we need it. You still need to ready a room for Isak, maybe your old room.” It was another suggestion that was in fact command. “I’ll finish cooking.” It was announced to the room, more than anyone as she departed from their company. 

Even frowned after her before turning to Isak. “You ok?”

Nodding, Isak tried to hide his unease and the sick feeling that twisted his insides into knots. It was unpleasant to worry about a rug being pulled from under you when you’d just grown accustomed to the comforting feel of walking on it barefoot. “I’m fine.” he lied.

That gentle study of Even’s took him in, it was warm and familiar; Isak had to hold back relief that wanted to flood out of him. His words hadn’t been bought but that was OK. He wasn’t alone in the world and Even could see him— _ knew _ him.  

“I’ll go fix the room. Just shout if you need me.”

“Sure.” and he watched as Even left the room, half of him wanting to feel him close and the other glad that he wouldn’t—in this minute, at least—form a stronger attachment than he already had. Because what if Mischa was right?

Raindrops began to tap on the window panes as Isak was left alone with his worries. 

 


	5. Conflicts of the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He is nice—what did you say to him?” He retorted, rounding on her.
> 
> A frown furrowed her brow, either at his words or the way he delivered them but he didn’t care for her disgruntlement. How many years had she been living in silence? And now she decided to be present, with the sole purpose—seemingly—of unsettling the balance between him and Isak.
> 
> “Does it matter?”
> 
> “Yes it matters, you’ve upset him somehow.”
> 
> She snorted. “I only told him the truth.”
> 
> “And that is?” Even demanded, irritation was quickly blooming into anger but she stayed cool, there was no shame on her features or on the waves of emotion he could read from her.
> 
> “That is that some people are made to be alone and he is probably one of those people, and that he should make the most of whatever he finds here, with you. For as long as it lasts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's another chapter, a little early than scheduled but I may not get time tomorrow to upload so... have the thing!
> 
> I hope you enjoy, please if you do let me know! Cos it get's lonely round here sometimes...
> 
> Love, Becs

Silence stretched out in the kitchen as Even stood by the sink, elbow deep in sudsy water and fulfilling his duty to tidy after dinner. This was one of his favourite rooms in the house, the cool slate tiles and pale marble worktops made the large and open space somewhat earthy and grounded. There were pots of herbs here, too, which always made the air clean and fresh. In the centre was an island that he’d usually eat alone at, and his imagination would supply fantasies where stories were shared over good food with people close to him. This evening _hadn’t_ lived up to those expectations.

It had been sombre, neither of the three of them exchanging more than a handful of words. Whatever his mother had spoken of to Isak, it had made an impact. Even would have addressed the issue with him if that third pair of ears and eyes hadn’t been so omnipotent.

And all he could see from their brief moments alone—when he’d taken Isak to his room—was a mask that hid whatever turmoil lay beneath. Even could usually read him, but—other than fear—the emotions were swirling too fast to detect. And then he’d had to leave him, to help his mum clean up despite the plea in Isak’s eyes to stay. He _would_ go back, he’d make it right—there was no other choice.  

Flinching at a clink that cut through his thoughts and signalled a plate being placed on the side next to him, Even turned to find his mother peering up at him. “He seems nice.” She stood still, waiting for his response, and the irritation that bit at him was a revelation.

“He _is_ nice—what did you say to him?” He retorted, rounding on her.

A frown furrowed her brow, either at his words or the way he delivered them but he didn’t care for her disgruntlement. How many years had she been living in silence? And now she decided to be present, with the sole purpose—seemingly—of unsettling the balance between him and Isak.

“Does it matter?”

“ _Yes_ it matters, you’ve upset him _somehow_.”

She snorted. “I only told him the truth.”

“And that is?” Even demanded, irritation was quickly blooming into anger but _she_ stayed cool, there was no shame on her features or on the waves of emotion he could read from her.

“ _That is_ that some people are made to be alone and he is probably one of those people, and that he should make the most of whatever he finds here, with you. For as long as it lasts.” She set her jaw in a finite way. What she said she believed to be truth but it made no sense to Even, how could she know what Isak’s destiny was? Merfolk knew many things but they couldn’t see the future designs that lay in someone’s path.

Not caring to hide his shock, Even gawked at her. “Why would you say something like that?”

“Because he should be prepared that it won’t last.”

His hands stilled at their work. _That it wouldn’t last?_ “What do you mean? _How—_ ”

She huffed an impatient breath that cut Even off. “You _know_ what this is. You knew him—before you even spoke to him, you _knew_ him.”

Even shook his head, confused at whatever it was she was trying to tell him. “I don’t understand—”

“Of course you do. But you don’t _need_ to, your instincts drew you to him for a reason. You know how our kind are, we need humans for a very basic need. We have always found _opportunities_ —sometimes a kinship or even love. But _you_ found your bond.” And Even’s world froze on the last word that she spoke.

_His bond?_ “Like you and dad?” He managed to stammer.

She nodded curtly. “Exactly.”

Mind whirring, Even tried to process the information. But now that it was said it was plain, it was the simple truth. Numbness began to spread through him as questions populated his mind. How could something so rare visit itself on the last three generations off his family? How could he not have known?

“You feel more for him than you have for anyone else, as if they are your own emotions—not just a smear of someone's spirit against your own. You’ll know what he wants to say; you can feel where he is; there is a connection between you both that could be followed to find the other. And he will feel it too, _just_ as strong—it will only grow more powerful with time.” Her words chimed out like the sounding of a church bell, ringing a solitary song on some sorrowful morning a soul was laid to rest in the earth.

And all he could do was stare. The one soul that would recognise him was Isak, there would be none other. Wonder bloomed inside of him, an unstoppable emotion quickly sprawling through his mind and body _despite_ his mother’s foreboding that it was doomed.

She softened, watching her words sink in before reaching out to lay a soft palm on his arm. “That’s why he must be prepared to be alone, as should you. I’d hoped that you would never find this. Finding it to lose it is a cruelty from nature.”

His brain flipped from paralysis to affront. “ _Why_ alone? _You_ had dad.” He didn’t care how petulant he sounded, this was unfair for her to even suggest.

“Yes,” she snapped, “I had him and now look at me without him. You will make it worse the longer you have together, the more memories you collect, the more _life_ you share. It will never be the same. If you keep it short then the pain might not be so bad.” Her tone was back to commanding; this was sense that should be adhered to and without question.

_Might not be?_ She was also basing this on her own experience and that alone. There were other ways, there _had_ to be. “But grandad—”

“Your grandparents were unique.” The brisk words cut him up, she was more guarded about them than about anything else. All Even had to go by was what he saw in photos— _she_ had the memories, memories that were never shared with him. “You can’t hope for what they had, you’ll be bereft. _That_ is why our kind take what we must and leave, we always have and that is how it should be. Living like this is unnatural for us. You can’t stake your life on a dream, it will leave you a ruin— _empty_.”

Even was stunned. How could she think this way when she hadn’t denied it of herself? However, what she said was true: Merfolk didn’t spend their years land bound, they returned to the sea. Perhaps it _was_ the best way, or at least the natural way. But then, she’d been severed from her bond abruptly whereas his grandparents had grown old together and simply disappeared—and that was the most information he’d managed to garner over the years. Maybe there _was_ a way—something inside of him screamed that that _was_ the truth, but was it just foolish hope?

“You don’t know everything, mum. You don’t know how it will end.” He tried to grapple with the logic and emotion of the situation at the same time, but between the confidence that came from her and his lack of experience, despair began to drown the wonder.

“I know more than you. I’m saying this to save you from more pain than you already stand to gain. You take what you need from him, you will give to him a part of you and you leave. Back to the sea as you always wanted.” She was pleading now. “Don’t be like me.” The final words were a whisper, a whisper that quelled his anger in a storm of desolation that waged in her wide eyes. A soul lay in her that was utterly broken; shattered the day his dad hadn’t come back home on time.

Fingertips stroked against his cheeks and—ignoring the ruins that now lay within as the information ripped through him more effectively than any destruction a bomb could cause—he focussed on her. Her intentions were for his well-being, he _knew_ that, but he didn’t accept it and she would know that. But for now he had nothing to say to her.

“Just think about it, Even. It’s the best way for you both.” She hesitated, considering her next words carefully. “But you can’t tell him what you are.”

He stepped away from her as her hand dropped to her side, reluctant to let it be but she was convicted in her words.

“I should lie? Why can’t he know?”

“If he knows he’ll resent it. He’ll come to resent you, what we are and our purpose. It’s the reason he’s destined to be alone after all.” She folded her arms, it signalled the end of the intended speech; she'd said what she wanted.

And how was he supposed to react? What was he supposed to say? This rare bliss he’d found, carefully cultivating to flower in hope, had just been destroyed in a few short sentences. That despair he felt now seeped into his bones.

“I'll think about it.” If he was going to leave Isak behind, it was better to do it sooner rather than later. She was right in that regard.

“That's all I ask of you.” the words were softly spoken but there was an air to them that she expected to be complied with in this. Even wasn't so sure he'd be so easily swayed to give up on hope— _no,_ he _knew_ that the hope inside of him couldn’t be snuffed out, even if he wanted to extinguish it.

Her retreat from the room was dignified and without a backwards glance. Even was left on his own, torn in several directions at once.

* * *

Even had been standing outside his old bedroom for a period of time that seemed unquantifiable. Sure that he would not be able to find sleep himself, the bond had drawn him to this threshold where he daren't enter, but felt something close to peace here after the turmoil that had stayed with him from the conversation he’d had with his mother in the kitchen. In truth, Even didn’t know where else to be.

Isak had left the door cracked open and he could hear the gentle rhythm of deep and peaceful breathing. Closing his eyes, Even synced his own inhales with those he could hear. It seemed natural now to want to breathe in tandem to the human that lay a few meters away.

How could he not have known what this was? He _knew_ something was different and—now it’d been explained—it unfolded within as something he'd always _known_ but never consciously observed. But what did he do now? He still believed that Isak would accept his true nature, but what was accepted now could easily turn to resentment—like his mother had said.

He’d been about to come clean earlier, as Isak’s foot was in his hand and his fingers had tended to the torn flesh there. It had felt right then, but now—knowing what their connection was—he was beginning to believe the doomed foretelling that had been impressed on him. Could he keep something like this a secret indefinitely? And how long would nature allow Isak to be a part of his life?

“ _Even_?” came the hushed voice from inside the room. He shouldn't have waited here, his presence had probably woken Isak now their connection was stronger.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened himself before poking his head around the door. “I wasn't sure if I should check on you or not.” Well, it wasn't a lie.

“I'm not a baby.” Isak retorted, but amused rather than irritated.

“I know I'm just not used to having guests—and ones that hurt themselves because of me.” Or that _would_ hurt themselves because of him.

Isak snorted. “It wasn't because of you. And even if it _was,_ you fixed me up.”

Even chewed his lip. The room was dark but his eyes were adjusting, he could make out Isak’s outline, sitting up on the bed. He should go, being close to him in the quiet of night would only make this more painful. “I should let you rest. Sorry if I-”

“I could feel you there— _worrying_. I think it's why I woke up. I've never been able to feel someone before. Is it like what you do?”

Even lingered at the door, deciding to take a step inside before leaning on the wall. His mum's words hung heavy on his mind, urging him to leave but the instinct that drew him towards Isak was stronger. And with every inch closer, comfort enveloped him, smothering the despair. He _needed_ Isak.

“Maybe.” Even replied, picking his way through his words carefully. “But I feel you in a different way than anyone else.”

“I think I knew you did.” The statement was curious, almost thought aloud. But Isak no longer seemed surprise at the intuitive wisdom that came to him.

Even laughed softly. “Am I that obvious?”

“ _No_ ,” Isak defended Even from his self-criticism, “we both seem to get stuck in moments, from time to time.” he shifted his position and must have flexed his foot; sharp pain flared in Even exactly where the wound was on his counterpart. Coupled with the hitch of Isak’s breath, worry overwhelmed Even—in contradiction to the knowledge the injury was not life threatening, far from it.

“Are you ok?” he asked, rushing towards the bed before kneeling down and pawing at the covers, seeking out Isak’s foot. His fingers found the bandage, still dry. The wound hadn't reopened and a sigh of relief left him learning that.

“I'm _fine_.” Isak tried to sound exasperated but fondness engulfed that emotion.

“Maybe I should change the dressing, so I can check.”

Isak shifted his body upright, the covers falling from his torso and his pale skin shining like the moon in this dark space. Even’s mouth went dry and his fingers stilled on Isak’s foot. What did he do? He knew his nature was stunted by his lack of confidence, a confidence any of his kin would have garnered by now from many years at sea. He longed to follow where he knew life was propelling him but he couldn't help but second guess every movement, especially with the imagined loss of Isak weighing on him.

“That depends.” Isak’s voice was soft and low, as he bent closer to Even, seemingly to peer down at his bandaged foot.

“On what?” he managed to reply after clearing his throat.

Isak nervously licked his lips. “Are you going to kiss me again?”

Even couldn't stop staring at his mouth, they were so close. Too close. “I don't know why I did that. I shouldn't have and I won't do it again—”

“ _No_ , then.”

Even frowned in confusion. Isak didn't want him to change the dressing unless he _did_ kiss him? “You want me to kiss you?” he whispered quickly.

Isak dropped his gaze, studying the covers in his lap. Even was sure if he touched Isak’s cheek he would feel the heat of his blush, but the smile that played on his lips was coy.

“Maybe just not my foot this time.”

Resisting the urge to ask Isak to specify exactly _where_ he wanted to be kissed, Even decided to trust what he felt. This pull was inevitable and it _was_ two sided, there was no point in doubting the attraction or the need. There _were_ other things that he could worry about, but right now he was fatigued by the space that remained between them. Threadbare by the time that had passed without their souls pressing together, their bodies finding acceptance against each other. Isak was his home, regardless of how much time he was graced to spend there.

Eyes flitted back to Even’s face and an eyebrow was arched, questioning—without words—why this was taking Even so damn long.

And so he let go, it all seemed so insignificant in comparison to what was evolving between them. His hand was on Isak’s cheek before he realised he'd moved it, finding the warmth he knew would flow beneath the soft skin there, and his body moved forward as Isak came to meet him.

Slowly and deliberately, their mouths found one another: nose slid along nose—guiding the kiss home, lips ghosted over lips, and they shared a breath before Even finally pushed against Isak firm enough for the motion to be classed a kiss. There was a pause long enough for their hearts to beat just once, a slither of space separated them in that moment as if recounting what life had been like before it would forever be changed. Then their mouths merged again.

Tilting his head, Even sought out more; now they’d come to this point he couldn't stop. And his kiss was welcomed by Isak as his lips parted and the warm and soft of their tongues glided together; it was a nourishment that Even hadn’t known he’d been lacking.

They parted for air, and words fell from Even’s mouth. “Are you sure?” It was barely a whisper but the ragged breath that haled against his trembling lips seemed answer enough.

“I've wanted to kiss you since I first saw you.” Isak whispered back, but the last word was swallowed as Even pushed forward to kiss him again. It was pure and deep, every molecule of his being wanted this—wanted Isak so desperately he could feel himself on the verge of tears.

His hands had a mind of their own as they traversed the being that he adored; moving from their tender caress of Isak’s face to flow over his skin, from his neck and shoulders to his back and waist. Every inch of him felt perfect to Even’s fingertips: every crest of vertebrae, every sweep of muscle, every vibrant pulse point. It was as if he knew what Isak would feel like, it was known and it was _right_ —written somewhere in his DNA the day he was born.

The hands that were on Even tugged at his t-shirt, pulling them closer together and that jolt of encouragement was all that was needed. Reaching down, Even gripped the hem of his shirt, breaking away from Isak’s mouth for a short, resentful moment as he pulled it over his head and threw it to the floor. Those sure hands guided him back to Isak’s mouth where Even stole the soft, relieved laugh that was being expelled by lips he didn't think he would ever tire of.

Isak shifted back on to the bed, crumbling like Even was to the overpowering passion that had hung over them like a storm, held off too long; and now the rain drops had broken free of those swollen clouds, there was no stopping the flood that would follow. Even moved with him, eager to feel their skin press together and Isak’s arms holding onto him with as much need as Even would hold him back.

Leaving his mouth, Even was propelled by the need to taste him: skin, breath, body and life. Explore each hair of his head and to know the location of every freckle on his flesh until he memorized them like the constellations. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins; Even had never felt as alive as he did right now.

“You don't think that she'll know?” The tremble in Isak’s voice, followed by the shallow moan that was swallowed by the dark and quiet, were more than satisfying to Even. He wanted more, louder, _incoherence_ —he wanted to elevate Isak to pleasure they'd neither found before and wouldn't find elsewhere.

But the words uttered brought reality to the forefront of Even’s mind. Could he do this whilst a lie was between them? He couldn't do what his mum advised, but equally he couldn't bear the thought of resentment residing in Isak’s eyes when he looked at him. He was still unsure how he should handle the situation, all the cards were in his hand and it wasn't fair for him to play when Isak wasn't even aware there was a _game_ afoot. And it was far from a game to Even, but if Isak discovered there were things held back he would feel manipulated.

“It doesn't matter if she does.” Even said, bringing his face close to Isak’s again. Perhaps they should take it slow? Rolling to his side, he pulled Isak along so they lay facing one another. He could ease down the desire but there was no stopping it, now they both knew it was reflected.

Even stroked hair behind Isak’s ear before tracing the lines of his face. After all this time of wanting to touch him, Even didn't think he could be stopped. “I don't care what she thinks.” he added in a hushed tone.

Isak smiled at him, tipping his chin up. “I don't care what _anyone_ thinks.”

“Not even me?” Even asked, in mock indignation.

Isak chewed his lower lip, an expression of consideration on his face. “Maybe a little.”

“Just a little?”

Isak hummed in reply as Even laughed, soft and low before closing those few millimetres and bringing their lips together again. It swept him in, a deceptively gentle wave that lulled him before a strong current took him under.

Their bodies pressed together, hearts beating a quickening rhythm as Isak’s arm snaked around Even. Fingers trailed up and down his skin, that cool tingling sensation had completely submerged him by this point. And he didn't want a lifeline. Did Isak feel the same?

Even pulled his consciousness back from the blur they were making, and Isak was laid on his chest, face framed in Even’s hands as they kissed. When Isak left his mouth to breathe, Even decided to ask.

“What does it feel like when I touch you?”

Isak searched his face, fighting against heavy eyelids that wanted to flutter closed as his face was caressed. “It's a warmth,” he said slowly, “It spreads across my skin and through my bones. There's no other way to describe it. Do you feel it?”

Even nodded. “But it's more a cool feeling. Inside and out— _everywhere_.”

“Warmth and cool?” Isak said quietly. “Like a balance.”

“I guess so.” And it was more than a balance, it was a perfect fit. Two individuals that provided everything that was needed to sustain life: emotion, logic, empathy, strength, love, intelligence, passion, calm. They were two sides of the same coin and they would never operate the same without the other.

“It's _strange_ , but I like it.” Isak laughed gently before a more serious question came to him, tempering the mirth with hesitation. “Have you… felt like this before?”

“I've never felt _anything_ quite like this before.” There was a sadness to his voice that Even couldn't veil. It was the truth and he wouldn't ever feel like this again. Just with Isak… for as long as they were one. How long did he have until they would part? Until he hurt Isak?

Despite the dark, those green eyes seemed to read him. “I don't feel alone when I'm with you.” He hesitated over the words that were on his tongue before he committed to them. “I don't want to be alone again.”

Even’s found it hard to breathe. He didn't want Isak to be alone— _he_ didn't want to be alone. Not while he knew how completion with the soul destined for his own would feel. Even found himself contemplating whether he would survive the separation. How had his mum coped?

“Me neither.” he admitted.  

Isak snuggled into the crock of Even’s arm and the covers were brought up to cocoon them, for now content that they were together and over that divide they’d been dancing around since the day they’d met. In truth, it was enough for Even to mute his fears—for the minute, at least—as he let the essence of Isak soak into his skin.

“Can I just stay in here, with you, forever?”

It was such an innocent question that Isak asked, peering up at Even. There was a sense of escapism in the words, a chosen naivety, hinting that somewhere in Isak’s subconscious he knew there were problems to come. That couldn’t they just savour this taste of victory, forever? Even wondered whether the intuition natural to himself, might be rubbing off—or if that was indeed possible. Perhaps it was simply the bond that grew with every moment and kiss and touch.

And what could he say? Looking into eyes—deep and full of life—that Even never wanted to deny anything. “You can.”  


	6. Bonding over Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She likes you.” Even added, picking up a fork and stabbing at a chunk of melon.
> 
> Isak gaped at him. “She likes me?”
> 
> “Uh-huh.” The fruit disappeared between his lips before he smirked at Isak. He hadn’t been distracted by Even’s mouth, he was just absorbing the information.
> 
> “Christ,” he muttered, regaining his composure, “I don’t want to see what she’s like when she doesn’t like someone.”
> 
> “Oh, you really don’t.” Even shouldered him while letting out an easy laugh. “But if she’s ever mad, I’ll protect you.”
> 
> He looked at Even out of the corner of his eye. The old Isak would have renounced the need to be defended, that he could quite happily hold his own. But this Isak—the one that sat here, in this world and next to this unique person—wanted nothing more than to feel his protective love. Love? Was that what this was?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter... 
> 
> Enjoy!  
> Love, Becs

Isak smiled to himself and turned into the warmth that surrounded him. The arms that were currently wrapped tight around him hadn't relinquished their possession all night. There was no shame, just simple belonging.

Their words, whispered in the dark, had been replaced by kisses, and Isak was sure he'd fallen asleep with his lips still locked to Even’s. It was new and also so completely right that it felt old, there was no other way to describe the comfort he found here—in these arms.

Cracking an eye open, light flooded the room through the windows—much too bright right now, so he squeezed his eyes shut and nuzzled into Even’s neck. It was a hard job trying to recall a night he'd slept as well as this.

The chest he was pressed to vibrated with a low laugh. “Good morning.” The voice emanating from above his head was low, and pleasure ran over Isak as the words met his skin.

“Hi.” he replied, grinning and looking up to find blue and wide eyes staring back. “I'm still here.” It was half joke and half reassurance. Sometimes Even looked at him as if he might disappear without a trace and at any moment.

A serious expression was given in return to his words before a gentle smile replaced the apprehension that could be felt as well as seen. “I know.”

Fingers combed through Isak’s hair before a thumb ran over his cheek. Having never preened under someone's attention before, it felt strangely natural for Isak to bask in the way Even wanted to caress his every molecule. He would never get enough of this attention—he was sure of that—and felt no remorse in his desperate need for it.

“Did you even sleep?” Isak had the feeling that Even had been petting him in his sleep—and, _again_ , he wasn't complaining.

“A bit. It's hard to sleep when you're next to me.”

Isak frowned—it was the opposite for him. He could still feel there was something Even hid, but he wouldn't push him; some things would take time and Isak was determined to prove he could be trusted, in whatever this conflict was that waxed and waned within Even.

Propping himself up, Isak shifted onto Even’s chest, pushing a stray hair away from his forehead. “Well, you're gonna have to find a remedy for that.”

“Is that right?”

Isak hummed in confirmation. “You said I could stay forever. A verbal contract is binding.”

Even grinned. “And I _would_ keep you,” He paused, Isak already knew there was a ‘ _but’_ coming, “ _but_ ,” and he couldn't help from rolling his eyes, “you have school— _and_ exams soon.”

Isak huffed a sound of disagreement. “That can wait one day.”

Even gave him a reprimanding look. “No, it can’t. I want you to do your best.”

“I can study here.” he offered hopefully.

“I don't think I'd be very helpful,” Even smirked up at him, “I wouldn't be so concerned about distracting you when you're here, looking so fucking hot.”

Biting his lip, Isak edged closer. “Saying things like that isn't making me want to go anywhere.”

And hands were in his hair again, bringing him to Even’s mouth before a soft kiss was pushed onto his lips. He was left hanging and wanting more when hands and lips released him so Even could whisper.

“I guess I'll have to be the responsible one then.”

Snorting, Isak rubbed the tip of his nose against Even’s. “I can make your life exceedingly hard.”

“You already make things _hard.”_ Even snickered.

Isak’s jaw dropped as he blushed at the implications. “Are you sure you're the responsible one? Because _that_ makes me wanna leave even less.”

Mouth open, Even looked about to reply when his attention was diverted, as if he could hear something Isak couldn't.

“Come on, you can wash and I'll get you some fresh clothes to wear. I don't want you to be late.” But unwillingness hung heavy on his words; Even didn’t want to leave this haven either. It made the sense in his words easier to digest.

Reluctantly, Isak sat up. Scrubbing at his eyes, he took in the room for the first time in the light of day. It was a memory capsule: toys and clothes and books—all parcelled up and placed neatly in boxes and arranged on shelves. It was clean and clear—just like the rest of the house—walls and bedding and rugs were all a neutral cream with a few family photos dotted through the space. Despite the fact it lacked a personal touch, it was still very welcoming. And there was a second door in the room.

“Is that an en-suite?” Isak asked, nodding at the second door. He laughed when Even hummed a sound of affirmation to the question. “Your own toilet when you were a kid? Wow.” He scoffed.

“My mum shared this room with my aunt when they were growing up. Apparently there can never be enough toilets in a house for two girls.”

“ _Sure_ ,” Isak replied with a smirk, “or maybe it’s because it takes you so long to do your hair.” Even grunted a laugh, sitting up next to Isak and shouldering him playfully. “Seriously, how long do you spend on it to look like that?” Isak nodded at Even’s locks that—despite having just woken up and the fingers that had run through them most of the night—looked styled.

“It’s just naturally like this.” He cocked an eyebrow at Isak.

“Right, naturally perfect?”

“You think it’s perfect?” Even grinned at him, delighted with the praise that had slipped passed Isak’s lips.

“I guess. It _has_ to be to match the rest of you.” He was beyond being surprised at the words that flew from his mouth, straight from his heart and refused to bypass his brain. Something still tugged at his nerves when his honesty surfaced; the fear of being denied and abandoned didn't disappear—it lessened with every kiss but it still played in the shadows of his mind.

But he didn't _need_ to worry. Even’s grin softened, his hand making its way to Isak’s cheek before leaning in to lay a soft kiss on his lips.

“I don't think that's right.” he murmured in response.

“Why's that?” Isak asked, lost to the world outside of those sweet, soft kisses.

“Last time I checked perfection had green eyes,” he kissed Isak again before continuing, “and a Cupid’s bow mouth and he's just a little bit shorter than me, the perfect height for me to rest my chin on his perfect curls when I hold him.”

Despite the flush Isak felt at the praise, he tried to hold his own. “Well, you better keep him them.”

And there was a moment of intensity in Even’s eyes as he regarded the sentiment. “I intend to.” There was something frighteningly serious about those words, they didn't scare Isak one bit but there was an air of fate to them. He didn't want to run from it, instead he was pulled back to Even, back to a mouth that matched his passion with every kiss and touch.

Before he knew what was happening, Isak found himself pressed back into the mattress, Even’s lips devouring his own before making a path down his neck.

“I thought you said we should get up.” His softly laughed words curdled into a moan as his fingertips skated across the bare skin of Even’s back. When their bodies pressed together like this, every logical argument about any singular thing would fall apart. This _was_ the only thing that made sense. The world and its worries faded from view and it was just them: he and Even who felt more like one than two separate entities.

“I did?” came the murmured reply into his neck, “I don't remember.” Even snorted, sending warm breath skittering over Isak’s flesh, before his lips continued their journey across collarbone and goose bumped skin.

Warm palms slid down his sides, thumbs pressing into the soft domain just above Isak’s hip bones. His breath hitched, wondering whether Even’s confidence would hold out this time and take this somewhere other than kissing—not that he was complaining about _that_ part. But he felt a desperate need to explore and be explored, it was intoxicating and the more he had, the more he wanted. No, it was more than that—it was instinctual, awakening a desire that had laid comatose his whole life—his life which had been greyscale up until the moment he first saw Even.

As if hearing the unspoken question, Even began to trace the waistband of Isak’s shorts in delicate, slow lines that made muscles at his core tense with expectation.

Words were in his mouth, about to confess how much he needed to feel Even in ways he didn't even have experience. But there was no chance to voice them; Even’s body braced moments before a shrill cry rang through the house.

“ _Even. I need you.”_

Mischa's tone was insistent, as if this was not the first time she'd called. Isak would laugh at the words that mirrored what he’d intended to say, but he was too shocked at the sharp intrusion onto their bliss.

An exasperated sigh was expelled from the body over him, as Even rested his forehead on Isak’s chest.

“Fuck.” he muttered before peering up. “Sorry.” The apology was sheepish and guilt ridden.

Isak shook his head as he gently urged Even’s mouth back to his. “We're just pressing pause.” he reassured before claiming a light kiss. “I'm OK with that. You better go down before she comes up.”

Hair was smoothed back from his face as the suggestion was considered, Even looked half willing to defy everyone and stay exactly where he was, despite the consequences.

“OK.” he agreed finally. “I'll get you those clothes.” But he didn't push away from Isak until he’d taken a kiss of his own.

And then he was scrambling for the shirt still laying crumpled on the floor, pulling it over his head as he staggered for the door. Isak grinned watching him, it was the first time he'd seen Even anything over than graceful. A smile that matched his own was shot back before Even disappeared.

* * *

Isak washed, straightened the bed and dressed faster than he knew was even possible. He cleared the last few stairs in a jump and made a beeline for the kitchen, to where he felt Even.

Adjusting his borrowed clothes, Isak was momentarily distracted by the feel and scent of the t-shirt and sweater. He'd seen both items on Even before and it felt comforting to be wrapped in them. Perhaps it would make being apart bearable. Maybe he should leave his clothes? Would Even find that a comfort?

He was surprised by how easy it was to walk on his injured foot. From what he'd seen yesterday, Isak had expected to be limping for a week, but there was only a dull twinge when he put his weight on that area. Perhaps Even had healing powers, he thought with a small laugh. His imagination _was_ getting away with him, it always did here.

Awareness came back to him abruptly as he registered a cool marble surface beneath his palms. Blinking, Isak realised he was stood in the middle of the kitchen and completely unaware of having made an entrance, let along greet anyone. Eyes snapped up to find Even and his mum staring at him: Mischa's expression was unreadable, as usual, but the second pair of blue eyes took him in softly with an amused expression playing on the rest of Even’s features.

They were both stood on the other side of the countertop, he was preparing a fruit salad and she looked to be commanding a battlefield. Freshly baked bread was on the centre of the table and jars of compote, honey and yogurt were spread out. Isak’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had an unusually rabid appetite.

“Can I help at all?” he stammered, Mischa's unflinching gaze unnerved him. There probably wasn't a soul alive who could escape the feeling of scrutiny before her.

She shook her head, the loose silver hair that was swept over one shoulder swayed with the motion as she gestured to a stool. Today she was wearing a simple dress that reached her ankles, it was a deep amber in colour and it set off a warmth in her eyes that was—to Isak at least—deceptive.

“Good morning, Isak.” She impressed, eyes scouring him for clues. Clues for what exactly Isak had no idea, but it didn’t lessen the feeling of interrogation.

“Oh, _sorry_. Good morning, Mischa,” his eyes flitted to Even, “morning, Even.” he added, as if they hadn’t woken up in the same bed and greeted the day already with their hands and lips.

“Did you sleep well?” There was no hint that she was aware of anything, but her face seemed _too_ placid. Could she know that there was something now stronger than a friendship between them? No—it was probably just his conscience.  

Clearing his throat, Isak hoped the heat in his cheeks didn’t betray him. “Never better.” Well, it wasn’t a lie.

“And how is your foot?” she asked, eyes now downcast and settled on Even’s hands as he began to cut open a pomegranate. Isak didn't miss the small, irritated glances that she received from her son. Evidently he didn't like to be monitored. And if he couldn't _see_ the ire clear in his face, Isak could feel it spike in that unusual way they felt each other's emotions.

“It's good. Much better, I'm actually kinda shocked.” He was looking at the foot in question, rotating it at the ankle just to make sure it _was_ the foot he was referring to—considering the lack of discomfort present.

When he tipped his chin up, he found Mischa frowning at him. “Shocked? _Why_? Even is very competent at healing.” Her response was bordering on defensive, as if Isak was dishonouring her son with his remarked surprise. _Healing?_ She made it sound mystical.

Brandishing his palms in a placating gesture, he laughed nervously. “ _He is_. It's just that—it _was_ deep and I can't feel anything today, not really. I figured I'd be hobbling around for a while.” He flashed her a grin, hoping he could win her over. “If you want I think I could even tap dance for my breakfast.”

Even didn't bother to hide a soft laugh, and Mischa's mouth thinned into a hard line as she withheld her mirth. But it was enough, maybe he _was_ making progress.

“That won't be necessary.” she replied before poking a finger at Even’s work. “There's an easier way to do that.”

Even sighed, letting his hands fall idle and turning to Mischa. “Mum, I've been coping fine without your instruction for…,” he shrugged, “a while. I'm fine; it's _fruit_.”  

She gave him a hard look that was completely ignored as Even continued his work. So maybe there was one person who could escape the scrutiny of that gaze. Folding her arms, Mischa turned back to him and Isak swallowed, suddenly feeling the weaker target.

“Eat.” With the command, she reached across to the bread and—picking up a serrated knife—began to cut a thick slice. “You'll be late if you sit around talking— _or_ tap dancing.” She added the last comment quietly, and the corners of her mouth turned up; a shadow of a smile. It would have been considered a grin on anyone else's face. Even stared in disbelief that was utterly disregarded by Mischa as she placed the slice on a plate and offered it to Isak, he accepted gladly with his best grin.

“Thank you.” he said, fingers brushed against the crust as he took the plate. “It's still warm.” It was a long time since he'd had fresh baked bread, the smell alone made his mouth water.

She hummed in agreement. “Apparently I'm still good for _some_ things.” She cast a meaningful glare at her son who _seemed_ completely unaware of the assault. “It's exceptionally good with the honey. And there's milk or juice in the fridge.”

Taking the advice—firstly because it might win Mischa over, and secondly it sounded like a damn good idea—Isak grabbed the honey and spread a thick coating onto his bread. She watched him—and not unpleasantly, Isak noted—as he took a bite and hummed.

“It's _really_ good.” he said around the mouthful, he wasn't exaggerating for her benefit.

“Excellent.” She nodded with the word, pleased with Isak’s verdict. “Eat as much as you want. You'll be hungry after… hurting yourself. Your body needs energy to repair, so don't be sparing to be polite.”

Isak mumbled his accord, before taking another bite. Whatever he was doing, she looked satisfied—perhaps even content.

“I'll leave you in Even’s hands,” and there was definitely a knowing lilt to her voice as she made her way to the door. She paused at the threshold considering the words she was choosing to add. For a shocking moment, a small laugh—and so quiet it could have been mistaken for a breath—left her lips and brought Even’s attention around instantly, “perhaps he would enjoy your _dancing,_ Isak.”

With that she was gone, leaving them both alone in the kitchen. Isak spluttered out a shocked laugh before turning back to a mildly mortified Even. “What was that?”

Shaking his head, Even let the tension and bewilderment flow from him with a short laugh. “I _think_ that was supposed to be a joke.”

“That wasn’t just a joke; _that_ was innuendo.”

Even was back to his task, adding sliced strawberries to the mix of fruit before placing it next to Isak’s plate. “She can read me pretty well, she knows when I care for someone.” He looked up with a smile.

 _“So she knows?”_ Even nodded absentmindedly as he came around the table and perched on the stool next to Isak’s. “Shit.” But if Even wasn’t bothered by her knowledge of whatever they were, it couldn’t be a big deal.

“She likes you.” Even added, picking up a fork and stabbing at a chunk of melon.

Isak gaped at him. _“She likes me?_ ”

“Uh-huh.” The fruit disappeared between his lips before he smirked at Isak. He _hadn’t_ been distracted by Even’s mouth, he was just absorbing the information.

“Christ,” he muttered, regaining his composure, “I don’t want to see what she’s like when she _doesn’t_ like someone.”

“Oh, you really don’t.” Even shouldered him while letting out an easy laugh. “But if she’s ever mad, I’ll protect you.”

He looked at Even out of the corner of his eye. The old Isak would have renounced the need to be defended, that he could quite happily hold his own. But _this_ Isak—the one that sat here, in this world and next to this unique person—wanted nothing more than to feel his protective love. _Love?_ Was that what this was?

The thought tripped him up on whatever words had been forming and he stared down at his hand; he’d finished the slice of bread and he couldn’t even remember the final few bites. He must be really hungry.

 _Love?_ His mind reverted back to that profound notion whilst his heart seemed to stop and start at an unreliable rhythm as he tried to process what he was experiencing. Was it his feelings or Even’s?

“Here.” The soft word roused Isak from his daze. Turning back to Even, he was met with a strawberry offered from the end of the fork. The expression aimed at him was tender, it soothed Isak’s nerves and—with a sigh—he took the proffered fruit.

So distracted by the fresh and sweet burst of flavours across his tongue, Isak almost missed the longing way that Even’s eyes rested on _his_ lips. He smirked just like Even had a few minutes ago.

“Good?” he asked, unperturbed by being caught out. Isak frowned as he felt at a vague impression that unfolded in his mind: tasting the fruit from his own mouth. That couldn’t be his own thoughts.

“Really good.” he murmured, cast adrift by the information he was receiving. It was almost overwhelming, but a delicate touch landed at the corner of his mouth, grounding him with that simple contact. He looked questioningly at Even.

“You have some honey.” he explained, wiping carefully at the spot before retrieving his thumb and bringing to his own lips, and managing to look innocent as he took the residue into his mouth when it was far from a saintly act.

Isak’s mouth hung open. “I won’t be going anywhere if you keep that up.”

To his credit, Even gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry—I can’t help it.”

“Well you’re gonna have to,” Isak snorted, “I can feel your _feelings_ as well as mine. It’s… _a lot_.” How would that work if he experienced both sets of emotions: fear, pain, _pleasure_? This was going to take some getting used to. How did Even manage it?

“OK.” He reached to the loaf of bread, cutting another thick wedge before placing it on Isak’s plate. “I promise I’ll be good… _if_ we’re outside of a bedroom.”

“Deal.” That was a compromise he could work with, getting used to this connection would need some privacy and a lot of time. Both of those things sounded appealing to Isak. But when would they get time to be alone next?

“Eat, I don’t want you going hungry.” He was already spreading honey over the bread on Isak’s behalf.

“Thanks.”

“And soon.” Even added before grinning as Isak furrowed his brows. “We’ll have some time soon.”

“Did you just… read my thoughts?”

Even snorted dismissively. “No, I can just tell what you’re thinking to ask. But you _won’t_ ask.” He seemed confident in his assertion, but Isak wasn’t so sure it wasn’t the same thing. Either way, he nodded. It wasn’t necessarily important what they called it compared to what was developing between them.

He did now owe Even a returned favour, although it would be harder to blindside him if he was used to feeling other people’s emotions. But this _was_ different—he’d said so yesterday.

He let his eyes travel over Even’s face: imagining the colour his cheeks would flush in passion, the way his lips would part when he would gasp, how the blood would rush under his skin making his pulse run wild, what his skin would taste like when it was covered in a sheen of sweat…

“ _Fuck_ —Isak, that’s not fair.” Even murmured, eyes locked with Isak’s. He grinned in response, pleased that he could overwhelm in the same way he could be overwhelmed.

“Now we’re even.”

Even grunted a short laugh. “For now.” Leaning forward he kissed Isak lightly before sliding from his stool. “I’m gonna put the bike in the car, you’re dangerous to be around.” But he lingered at Isak’s back before leaning in to him. Warmth blessed his skin before Even’s lips landed on his neck, a brief but immersive contact that forced Isak’s eyes closed.

“Me, dangerous?” he whispered, regret tinged his words as the warmth receded and Even stepped back.

He simply hummed his agreement as he moved towards the door. “Take your time, eat until you’re full.”

“Wait, aren't you gonna eat some more?” Now that he thought about it, sometimes it felt like Even only ate to keep him company.

“I run on very little.” He grinned at Isak as he backed out of the kitchen. And, with a wink, he vanished.

It was only when he’d picked up his third slice of bread that he realised they weren’t even anymore; Isak would have to get him back somehow. He grinned to himself thinking about how exactly he might go about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE BLUE BALLS...


	7. Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you wanna come up?” Isak asked, breathless once their lips parted.
> 
> “I do.” And there was the eye roll that he knew was coming as Isak anticipated the but. “But I also want you to get to class, I have a feeling we'd be in there a while.” He laughed as Isak chewed his lip, and Even knew the same longing in Isak’s eyes would be reflected in his own.
> 
> “The responsible one.” he murmured with a smirk.
> 
> “For now.” Even replied, pushing a soft kiss onto waiting lips. “But I'll be back soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, life is happening and I've managed to extend this current section from one to three chapters, so there's a lot of extra writing. I just always find the sweet interludes that are crucial for character development a lil tricky to write. And there was going to be another section added to this chapter but it was already over 4.5k so... I'll update sooooon.
> 
> Anyway, Enjoy!  
> Love, Becs

The drive was a quiet procession back to a separate reality. Even kept his focus on the road—although the route towards campus was as clear in his mind as the back of his own hand—he was consumed with processing what Isak was feeling whilst on autopilot. He fluctuated between excitement and apprehension, skipping over several dozen other emotions in between. Even could guess that was due to them being together and out in _this_ world for the first time, whilst acknowledging the fact that they would have to part ways after _finally_ finding themselves where they want to stand with one another.

It suddenly dawned on Even that what he was doing might be rude. Could he read Isak without his permission? For the first time in his life, Even’s _gifts_ felt invasive. But then, Isak had begun to read him; there would be nowhere to hide soon.

The roads were busier now: cars, trucks, buses–vastly different from the vacant roads that surrounded his home. Buildings were more frequent and the general bustle of human habitation was intensifying. Usually, Even would feel a familiar buzz under his skin—a direct impact of the differing experiences being catapulted haphazardly around in the atmosphere, and it would only get more acute the denser the population became. After his years learning to cope, he'd managed to decompartmentalise those numerous foreign sensations—always _aware_ of them but he could turn down the dial on the endless din— _most_ of the time that was.

This was his first drive outside of their land in weeks—way before the relationship had been strong enough for them to share one another’s attributes. Even was quietly shocked at how blissfully isolated he felt from the world with Isak by his side, he was cocooned away from the inferno of emotions that would try to invade him. It was just the two of them.

When Even had said that Isak’s logical nature helped him cope with what he absorbed, he assumed that would hold true just between the two of them. And indeed they would need that protection, feeding from one another’s mirrored elation would be formidable. Learning that they were bonded had only emboldened that notion; what they experienced would be shared, something both were a part of. Would that extend back into their past? Their memories?

But he wasn’t prepared to experience the world like this. Whilst he was near Isak it was all dull to Even’s senses. There was still an awareness of the humans that moved around him but their lives didn't encroach onto his in the way he'd grown accustomed to. If he focussed on an individual, he was sure he would still hold the ability to delve into them. But, right now at least, he felt like himself— _more_ than that, he felt lighter… _freer_.

“So… your mum.” Isak spoke softly into the quiet between them. He’d been deliberating his words for a few minutes now, Even could almost see the individual letters forming in his mind as Isak danced around his phrasing.

Even gave him a sidelong glance, to find an amused grin awaiting him. “What did she say?” He’d finished loading the car and, grabbing the few things that he’d prepared from the kitchen, he’d made his way from the house to find them standing on the patio, Isak looking part flustered and part amused and his mum surrounded by a pensive air.

Isak shrugged. “Nothing. Not really, she was just saying goodbye.” He stared through the windshield, deep in thought.

“ _But_?” Even probed, knowing there was more.

Shaking his head, Isak let out a heavy sigh. “It’s weird. It was like she was saying goodbye for the last time—like she would never see me again.”

Even grunted a laugh. “She can be dramatic.” She was so serious most of the time that after the jokes she had managed to conjure earlier, the need to counter that levity with seriousness had probably overpowered her.

“I thought she liked me.”

“She does.”

He sighed again, this time in surrender. “Maybe I _am_ overthinking it.”

Reaching out to take Isak’s hand, Even brought it to his mouth, setting a light kiss on his knuckles. He felt Isak’s breath catch and there was something more than satisfying— _more_ than satiating—at being able to cause these minute changes in Isak, even in the way he would breathe. Even was sure that he himself breathed in a different way when he was with Isak, if that was at all possible.

“You are.” he snickered, earning himself an unimpressed look. “She’s just rusty when it comes to having a conversation, even with me. She’s been severe in her thoughts for so long she doesn’t remember how to laugh— _well_ ,” he conceded, “she’s remembering.” He was still shocked at the way she’d interacted with Isak. It seemed like new life was flowing through her veins, and it was due to Isak. He was _everything_ they needed, if she could only trust in that herself.

“I like her.” Isak stated abruptly.

Even couldn’t help the laugh that came out, surprised at the confession. “You _do_? Wow.”

“Yeah,” he retorted, almost in defence. “I think she means well. She just has a sad soul. Sometimes she seems like a ghost, almost not here at all.” Isak frowned at his musings, not knowing how close to the truth he was in his chosen analogy.

“Her laughter used to be the music that filled that house, it feels like a separate life now—or another universe.” Isak squeezed his hand in reassurance.

There was a hesitation before Isak spoke, but speak he did. “What happened to your dad?”

Even exhaled relief at the question finally finding its way free from Isak’s mind. Clearing his throat, he gave a straightforward answer. “He died in a car crash. Could have happened to anyone.” And it was true, there was no preventing, controlling or preparing for it. Sometimes bad things just happened, Even had accepted that but his mum never could.

“I’m sorry.” And he was, Even could feel anguish surging through Isak at the need to soothe hurts that lay under thick scar tissue.

He smiled softly. “It’s OK. One day he was there and the next…” Even shrugged. The situation had called for him to be stronger than he’d wanted to be; she’d needed his hardiness to remain sane. Naturally, Isak still felt that historic pain and his need to mend it left him unable to respond. “I managed to carry on living, she didn’t.” Even added reassuringly, squeezing his hand right back.

“I guess that’s why she doesn’t like you leaving much?”

Even nodded as he steered the car around a turn. “The world went from a place of wonder to a battlefield, unseen terrors waiting to sabotage when you’re most secure.” He snorted disdainfully. It was a frustrating mind-set; what they _were_ and their very purpose called for Merfolk to see the chaotic nature of the world and accept it, every single facet. They aided life but it was never their purpose to villainise anything, because the world _needs_ balance: the dark and the light, the good and the bad. But his mum could only visualize the danger in everything.

“I can understand that.” Isak almost whispered, lost in his own empathy.

Even studied his profile for a long moment before he went on. “ _Everything happens for a reason_ —that’s what she always used to say to me. Maybe I would have left by now if he was alive, maybe I wouldn’t have found you—or you found me.” It was a morbid thought but maybe the threads of the universe needed to bind them, needed for Even to stay there—on the cliff.

Isak looked at him, dumbfounded at the statement. “I’d find you anyway, whatever universe we’re in.” The certainty in his words left Even silent; Isak believed in the notion—it wasn’t simple romance. He’d somehow tapped into the ultimate truths of existence and extracted the only thing that mattered, uttering it with no shame: that they were meant to be together.

Before he could pull together words to make a response, Isak leant towards him to push a gentle kiss onto Even’s cheek. “I like making you speechless, it doesn’t happen often.” He snorted a soft laugh and settled back in his seat, playful in his jest.

“There are plenty of ways you make me speechless.” Even smirked.

Isak looked ready to respond, grin ready, when recognition flashed in his eyes as he glanced out of the window. “ _Oh_ ,” he exclaimed, “it’s just down this road.” He gestured to a turn a hundred feet down the road and Even followed his lead.

Isak’s temporary home was on a road that approached campus, the grounds were only a five minute walk away. The building was typical of student accommodation: squarish and plain in its presentation, the bare minimum facilities he would hazard a guess. But if Isak was there, that is where home would be. Regret was already tugging at Even because they would need to part, but he didn’t like to leave his mum for long.

Pulling into an empty bay in the small car lot out-front, he switched off the engine. “I’ll help you get the stuff inside.”

“ _Stuff_?” Isak questioned as Even opened his door, grinning widely over his shoulder before he closed the door and Isak’s was thrown open.

“Yeah, stuff. I didn’t want you to survive your recovery on student food.” He laughed as Isak scrambled out of the car to join him at the boot.

“ _Surviving recovery?”_ he spluttered, “Even, I can barely feel it—no, I can’t feel it anymore. I’m _fine_.”

Even surveyed him with a quick glance before opening the boot and pulling out the bike and a large hamper full of food. “Maybe I just want to look after you, even when I’m not with you.” he said casually, wheeling the bike to a communal lock up area and leaving Isak standing next to the car, eyeing the food that he now held in one hand.

The bike was locked away quickly and Even strode back towards Isak, who was still silent but a small battle waged within him between gratitude, surprise and a small measure of defiance that Even would suggest he needed looking after. But the war ended when Even was stood before him, and his chin tilted up so their eyes could meet in truce.

“ _Maybe_ I like it when you look after me.” He said finally.

“Well if you _did_ , I promise not to tell. You probably have a reputation to maintain.” He stepped closer to Isak, close enough to kiss but leaving him the rest of the ground work. Even wasn’t going to presume what Isak was comfortable with yet, but he didn’t worry over that for long as a hand gripped the front of his sweater. A low, fond laugh escape him as their bodies were pulled together.

“I already told you, I don’t care about anybody else.” Isak’s lips moved against Even’s as the words were whispered.

He reached up, his palm cupping Isak’s cheek before losing himself in those deep, unblinking eyes. The world always melted away around them. “Good.” And there was that shallow gasp again, but Even’s lips were on Isak’s so fast he stole the breath as it was released.

And then it was warmth and bliss as they kissed. He considered that perhaps they shouldn't do this in such a public setting as his hands began to flow freely over Isak’s form, checking that everything was in its rightful place before he had to leave. Even was sure their kisses would always be deep and inevitably lead to irresistible temptation.

“Do you wanna come up?” Isak asked, breathless once their lips parted.

“I do.” And there was the eye roll that he knew was coming as Isak anticipated the _but._ “But I also want you to get to class, I have a feeling we'd be in there a while.” He laughed as Isak chewed his lip, and Even knew the same longing that he could see in Isak’s eyes would be reflected in his own.

“The responsible one.” he murmured with a smirk.

“For now.” Even replied, pushing a soft kiss onto waiting lips. “But I'll be back soon.”

“Or I'll come to you?”

Even shook his head. “I don't think I can survive even a few days without you.” he said, stroking fingers through Isak’s hair. But it was the simple truth.

Isak grinned at him, his cheeks deepening in colour at Even’s words. “OK. But I'm gonna get you a phone. It's one thing not to see you, another not to be able to talk to you at all.”

“Deal.” Even affirmed, nudging the tip of Isak’s nose with his own. “You'd better get the food in the fridge. Maybe you need a hand with it-”

Isak cut him off stealing a lingering kiss of his own. “I'm fine, _Mr responsible_.” It was Even’s turn to be breathless. “Remember: I'm dangerous—you may never come out.” his eyebrows rose suggestively.

“Honestly dangerous… I could think of worse fates.” Even sighed reluctantly. He _did_ have to go. “I won't be away long.” he reassured.

Moving back, he gave Isak the room to slip away—which he did, walking away backwards just like Even always seemed to do when they would part.

“Soon.” Isak’s reply was a confirmation, as if they could both see the future.

Even watched him disappear into the building and wondered if he would be able to operate fully now that he was aware that the second half of his soul wasn't by his side.

The buzz beneath his skin made its presence known.

* * *

Isak sighed as he flopped into his favourite armchair. It was old and had perhaps seen one too many backsides but it _was_ comfy and it sat next to the window in the shared living room of his temporary apartment. The view was nice, he supposed; it wasn't the great and vast beauty of the inlet but it did look out onto one of the green stretches around campus. Tall trees swayed gently in the breeze and the view never failed to relax him—usually, that was.

Each parting from Even had become increasingly difficult, but on this occasion he felt half of him was missing. He could chew to eat, but his taste buds were missing; he could inhale but not smell the freshly bloomed flowers; he could watch the sunset but would be ignorant of the myriad of colours spilt across the sky. Without realising it, he would find himself reaching for the bundle of emotions that were Even’s, to feel more—to feel as full as he felt when they were together. His mind had made a complex map of them; he saw colours and shapes that were somehow related to the tightly controlled ball of sensations that were not his own.

It was all intangible, he couldn’t put pen to paper and write it out, nor could he draw it, but it was just _there_ and he seemed to understand it. Despite Even being far from him, he could sense him—it was nothing compared to how overwhelming it could be when they touched but it was still there. Instead of questioning this metaphysical anomaly, it gave him solace. It was a haven that he didn't want to second guess or test.

Revision classes had been practically pointless today, he’d spent most of his time doing exactly what he now sat doing: staring out of a window. But he was _trying_ to focus, he knew he should for himself and for Even—for the future.

Checking his watch, he let out a pained groan; it had only been seven hours since he’d last seen Even. _Soon._ That was what he’d said and Isak knew it was the truth. But how soon was soon? He was half tempted to get on his bike and ride over there, even if it was just for an hour…

“ _Isak_?” His name was spoken in a familiar, clipped, British accent; the sudden sound of his flatmate’s voice sent him jumping out of his skin.

“ _Jess, don’t fucking do that._ ”

There was movement in her room before the door opened and she stuck her head out, short brown hair loose and dangling free in a neat and precise fashion that was perfectly in tune with the human it was attached to. “Do what?”

“You know—creeping up on me. I thought you were on campus.” She frowned at him in confusion, which was understandable. She hadn’t crept up on him at all, simply called his name out like she normally would when he’d get home. But Isak had been so far into his thoughts that the greeting was as good as if she’d magically materialised in the seat opposite and thrown a bucket of iced water over him.

“I wasn’t creeping… and I’ve been home all day.” She stepped out of her room and crossed her arms, considering Isak with an amused expression. Mr Price is at a conference so I studied here. I _did_ tell you yesterday morning before you _disappeared_ …,”

Isak nodded slowly, he remembered now—he’d been so busy trying to get out of the flat and on his way to the inlet that the information hadn’t been absorbed. She’d been here all day? He’d thought she was out earlier when he’d rushed in to drop Even’s food off—but then he’d only spent a few moments putting the stuff away before grabbing his books and leaving for campus. “I didn’t see you when I got in this morning.” he said without thinking.

Jess smirked at him. “No you didn’t. You also didn’t tell me you were staying out last night.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It’s just… there was this party and I crashed.” Isak hadn’t spoken to _anyone_ about Even, he wasn’t sure he wanted the world to know. Not because of any judgement he might receive, but simply to keep this precious thing to himself. The _real_ world seemed to taint everything. But Jess and he had made a pact to keep tabs on each other, it hadn’t been fair to leave her concerned. “Sorry.” he repeated, shamed at his inconsiderate actions.

She stared at him for a long moment before moving from the door, crossing the room and plopping herself in the second chair. “Good party?”

Isak hummed affirmation, suddenly feeling interrogated by the half smile on his friends face. “It was OK. You know… too much cheap beer.” he shrugged as if that would explain everything.

“Cheap beer and good food?”

“Huh?”

“The fridge. It’s full of some _really_ good food. There’s fruit salad and quiche and some other things that I don’t even know the name of. Fresh bread too and some honey…,” She trailed off, raising one eyebrow at him questioningly.

“Oh _that_. It’s just some leftovers, I think someone’s parent brought it or whatever. You know—rich kids.” He snorted a laugh, hoping humour would shift the attention of her questioning.

“And you just took it home?”

“Yeah.” Isak shifted in his seat, suddenly entertained by one particular tree. Anything was a more appealing view than his flatmate’s face right now—all knowing of the lies being told but _amused_ by it all.  

“ _And_ you got dropped off?”

Isak licked his lips, how much did she know? Enough to have seen him getting out of a car. “Well, I hurt my foot, so—”

Jess rolled her eyes, exasperated. “I saw you, Isak. You know… with _him.”_ She leaned forward now, elbows on her knees and grinning at him conspiratorially. “ _He’s hot_. Why didn’t you tell me about him? Is this where you’ve been disappearing to? I had no idea you were into guys, you—what is it you say— _hook up_ with girls all the time. But this makes sense, you never really _date_. But, wow, he’s fucking hot. I don’t blame you. He’d make me gay too—or straight, I guess.” She sat back in her seat, dark eyes dancing with excitement on Isak’s behalf.

His mouth was open, struggling to figure out where he should start. She always spoke so fast when she got like this. “There wasn’t anything to tell. Until… yesterday. And he lives at that place I was telling you about—where I go to think.”

“ _Where you go to think_.” She repeated, smirking through her words. “Is that what you call it?”

Isak blushed whilst still managing to huff indignantly. “We _weren’t_ doing anything—”

“Until yesterday.” She cut in.

“Yeah.” he admitted in defeat.

She waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t continue she kicked his foot with her own. “ _So_?”

“So… we were having lunch and I cut myself,” he lifted the foot she hadn’t kicked, “on a rock when I was paddling.”

“You _did_ hurt your foot?” Jess mused to herself, having previously dismissed that information as part of Isak’s lie. “And then?”

“Then he—” Isak paused, but there was no other way to phrase it, “he _carried_ me back to the house and _fixed_ me.” The words tumbled out of him as Jess’s jaw dropped, her hands were now clasped over her mouth as she tried in vain not to squeal.

“ _He carried you?_ And, like, fixed you? Oh my god, that’s fucking adorable.”

Isak wanted to scowl at her or counter her zeal, but he couldn't disagree with her. “Yeah, and his mum said I should stay the night cos of my foot.”

“ _His mum?”_

“Uh-huh.”

“But he drives? He could have driven yesterday.”

“It’s a long story. Anyway, he came to check up on me last night and—you know…”

Jess gaped at him. “No, I do _not_ know. Did you—?”

“ _No_. We just kissed and… cuddled.” There was no other word for it but it may have been the wrong thing to say because she aimed an expression at him that made Isak feel like he had been transformed into a box of kittens wearing bow ties.

“Oh, that’s so cute.” She declared before scanning his face for a long moment. “But you wanted more?”

Isak snorted, “Well, yeah, of course I did— _I do_.”

“But you couldn’t because it’s his parents’ house?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “something like that.”

“So, invite him over.”

“He said he’s gonna come over, I don’t know when though.”

“Can’t you text him?” She was quick with the questions, a serious expression on her face like her duty in this life was to see Isak get laid. He’d laugh himself if he wasn’t so similarly serious about that very same thing.

“He doesn’t have a phone.”

_“He doesn’t have a phone?”_ Jess repeated, confounded by the statement.

“Yeah, I know. But I wouldn’t get too excited anyway, it’s not like you’ll see him much when he’s here.” Isak grinned at her, leaving his implications unspoken but clear.

She snorted a laugh. “We’ll I can’t begrudge you finally getting some. At least one of us is. So, you know roughly when he’s gonna come over?”

Isak shook his head. “He said soon, maybe tomorrow. I don’t know.”

Jess frowned. “That’s kinda vague. But I’m sure you’re gonna let me know when he gets here—I will _hear_ all about it no doubt.”

“Well, I was thinking of biking over there tonight—maybe.” Isak mused, looking out the window and in the direction he could feel the connection stretch out towards Even.

A derisive snort brought his attention back into the room. “Oh no, _you_ have chores that you’re already late on. The bathroom isn’t gonna clean itself and it’s your turn for the laundry run—the pile is building up.”

Isak dropped his head back against the chair. “OK, OK.” They had decided on dividing up the chores and he couldn’t drop his end of the bargain, especially when Jess always kept her side of the arrangement honoured.

“And, you know, it’s not a great time to get distracted. Exams start in eight days.” she said in a softly reprimanding fashion. “You’ve worked hard.” Normally Isak would find it hard to take any form of chiding, even from his parents. But Jess seemed to do it in such a way that didn’t rankle his nerves; the big sister he’d never had, that had come into his life at a time he could hear the advice without being reminded of past infractions passed between them.

“I know— _he_ knows, it’s why he made me come back. He wants me to do as well as I can.”

Jess grunted in surprise. “Does _he_ have a name?”

“Even.” Isak replied, almost in a whisper, as if just saying his name was a prayer in itself.

“Isak and Even.” She pursed her lips, considering. “Sounds perfect: good looking, wants you to do well, looks after you, and sends you home with food—”

“He _made_ the food.” Isak added, as if he needed to add to the amounting accolades.  

“ _He made all that?_ ” This was probably the most shocking revelation for her yet, Isak knew the way to her heart was through her stomach.

“His mum made the bread.” he conceded with a grin.

“Well, fuck, Isak. I think you’re punching above your weight.” She snickered once the amazement had faded enough for her to throw a jibe at him.

He couldn’t help the panicked expression that was an instant reaction to her words. “That’s what I’m worried about. He’s too good for me, right?”

Jess’s face softened. “No, it was a joke. You _deserve_ this.”

Isak stared at her. He’d found it easy to live here with Jess. She hadn’t said anything after the Christmas break when he’d started to go off the rails—losing his focus and partying too hard, but she’d looked at him in a way that said she knew he was hiding. She couldn’t see him the way Even could, but she’d still listened to his drunken ramblings, and always with a calm patience; there was never any judgment to be found in the words she chose—just genuine concern.  

“Thank you, that means a lot.” He murmured, overcome with genuine gratitude for the person life had randomly thrown at him to live with for a year.

And she could feel his pensive frame of mind, her grin suggested her humour was about to soften the sobriety. “You aren’t gonna thank me in a minute when I kick your ass into cleaning.” She huffed a laugh before she stood. “Come on, we’ll have some tea first—then work. I have an assignment, you have chores.” Jess made her way to the kitchen and Isak stood to follow.

“ _Tea_ ,” he repeated, “have I ever told you how British you are?”

“Only every single day.” She sang back at him over her shoulder as she slipped through the door and out of view.

Isak began to trail after her before remembering something she’d said. “And I’m _not_ gay.” he insisted before his eyes rolled heaven bound when he heard laughter belt out of her violently. “OK, maybe I’m a bit gay.” There, he’d admitted it.

Jess turned to him as he stepped onto the grey tiles that covered the entirety of the kitchen floor, red in the face and trying to control her mirth and breathing simultaneously, which looked like it was a hard task right now. “Sure. Like you were a _little_ bit hungry when you were eating his face as if you hadn’t had a meal in a month.”

Pushing his hands in his pockets, he looked at his toes. “You saw that?”

“Yup.” She said simply, filling up the kettle. “That reminds me, there’s some _stuff_ you need in your bedside drawer.”

Stuff? Why was everyone trying to give him stuff? _“What stuff?”_

She arched an eyebrow at him. “You know…,” When Isak continued to stare at her blankly, she sighed. “Well, _first_ , we’ll start small; I have some lavender air freshener that’ll make your room homely for when he’s here. And… well… I’ll show you the rest later; tea, work _then_ stuff.”

“ _Tea, work then stuff_. Right.” Isak muttered, what had he got himself into? He should have got on his bike earlier when the thought presented itself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jess is actually an OC from one of my other works, I just felt she worked well here as an Eskildesque stand in <3
> 
> P.S. The angst isn't done yet FYI *smirk*


	8. Fractures and Sutures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pushing the covers to one side, Isak scrubbed at his face to rouse himself. Blinking, he rolled over to stare at a sliver of moonlight that stretched a long arm across his floor, his curtains fluttered in a breeze that came from the open window and the dim light made waves across the fabric; it was illuminated enough that you could make out the yellow hue. It reminded him of the sun setting over the sea at the inlet.
> 
> And, as if just thinking of that world heralded Even, the second set of emotions—that he was now becoming familiar with—made themselves known, closer than they’d felt since that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy <3 
> 
> Love,  
> Becs

Even sat at the top of the stairs that led down to the inlet, gazing across the roof of leaves. Present in body, but his mind was elsewhere. The fingertips of his spirit traced along the thin line that stretched between, and connected, Isak and himself—it was soothing. Every now and then he would feel a cool sensation spread through him, he guessed that was when Isak was tracing the line back to him. It was incredible, it felt as if their souls would meet simply by thinking of the other.

The sun was setting at his back, spreading a fiery glow down along the shoreline below and casting long shadows. He could see the dogs, one by one, finding their way back to the cabin as the evening chill began to weave its way through the trees, making a shushing noise as it did so; the world was quieting before the eventide, or maybe a storm.

“You're losing yourself to him.”

The unwelcome intrusion jolted Even from his peaceful reverie. Turning, he found his mum standing behind him, wearing a pained and concerned expression.

“I thought you were resting.” His reply was cool, he didn't want to discuss Isak with her and have her try to convince him of the impossible again.

She folded her arms across her chest, her offense strengthening in the face of Even’s avoidance. “I was. You've been sitting here hours now, just feeling him. You can't lose yourself, you should be looking the other way.” She gestured, pointing behind her to where the sea roared defiance at the cliffs.

“I don't want to.” It was a simple statement and not intended to be petulant. He didn't want to think of escape, he wanted to submit to his desires—all of which lay within Isak.

“It doesn't matter what you want.” She snapped, before sighing with impatience when Even turned away from her—back to the invisible connection that brought him serenity. “You have to do what's better for you—and him—in the long run.”

“But that's the point, you don't know what the ‘long run’ is. You can't even admit that him being here makes things better, for me _and_ you. He's what we need, he’s what this land needs.”

Even didn't have to be looking at her to know she’d stepped towards the cliff edge, watching the setting sun as if it were an egg timer and she was counting every grain that dropped until whatever this doom was that she imagined burst from the waves in a fury, bearing fangs.

When she spoke next, he was surprised by the emotion that lay beneath her voice. “It's not the same, Even.”

Frowning, Even regarded her over his shoulder. The wind stirred her hair and dress as she stared stoically at the horizon. He could feel the emotion that whirled in her; a weave so complex that he couldn't separate the sensations, nor name them. “What do you mean?”

“I feel your joy, I feel his love—as intense as if it is my own. My own bond.” And she looked at him now, the ghosts that were her memories visible on her mournful features. “But it is _not_ my bond.” It was whispered into the wind, but he would understand even if he the words were not carried to his ears.

To experience that connection, but it was not yours. _Yours_ was long ago severed from you—cut out with no warning, only leaving a searing and never healing wound. It would be an excruciating reminder. His mother had managed to numb her loss, submerging herself in her memory palace and reliving days long past for years on end while her body withered away. Being this close to them ripped that protection from her. She was conscious and in pain as severe as the day his dad had died.

Even swallowed. All at once he felt duty and need explode within him, fighting against one another. He’d always protected and cared for his mum, and now he was hurting her. Hurting her with the one thing that had completed him, the only thing that would make him whole. This wasn't fair, why should he have to choose?

_“This isn't fair.”_ Even retorted to the unvoiced argument as he stood, squaring himself up with not only his mother, but the very sea itself. “Nobody told you what you could and couldn’t have, you made your own choice.”

“I'm not telling you to make a choice, Even.” Her reply was cool, but he knew that something dire was following that deceptively diplomatic statement. “I'm telling you that you have no choice. You should leave now, back to the sea. Let it be a mysterious lost love for him. I’m not even advising you to act on your urges, leave without them.”

And he had no words for her. _Urges? Advising him?_ Her choice of words were crude and selfish. His own valid emotions raged inside, that she could do this—put him in this position of guilt and try to force him to see that there was no hope in the future with Isak, that it would be as bleak as her own life. No—he wouldn't accept it and after all these years being everything for everyone else, he was due this. This was his.

“You want me to go?” His voice was deceptively calm. She nodded once, relief spreading through her before it stalled as she realised his cold determination. “I'll go.”

He stalked past her and she grabbed feebly at his arm. Even relented, but just for her sake.

“No, you can't—”

“Watch me _._ ”

“ _Even_ , I'm your mother; I just want the best for you. Going to him will hurt you, _worse_ than that. It will kill your soul.” Her voice tapered off in desperation, as her grip on him tightened. But she didn’t possess the strength to match his, not anymore.

He shook his head in irritation, he'd never felt like this towards her before but it felt justified. “You don't get it. We're supposed to help the world, without bias or prejudice or personal experience interfering with our work. You're hurting the world. You're hurting _me_.”

She recoiled as if he’d slapped her, mouth open and working fruitlessly as her grip on him loosed before releasing him entirely. Even could do nothing for the twinge of shame he felt at his hasty words, but it was true. She was so far from reality that she didn't help it any more, she simply served her own fears and he couldn't coddle her anymore, not when it was his own fate he was sacrificing. Her advice didn't come from a place he could trust.

Yet still, he wanted to mend those hurts in her, the old and those new that he'd just inflicted, they seared within him like a welt across his heart. But it was said now and they both needed space. He would come back in a few days and resolve this—he _would._ But right now he needed some space; he needed Isak.

She didn't say another word as he made his way to the car, away from her and the fate she wanted for him. Desperate hope raged in him that he would return to find her acceptance of his choices. But even so, he would need to leave this place—he couldn’t let her live alongside him and be in pain, the way she was right now. But who would look after her? Worries swirled in his mind as he drove on through the night on autopilot.

* * *

Isak didn't remember passing out and he was sure he forgot to undress too; the socks he could still feel on his feet confirmed his hypothesis. He'd scrubbed and cleaned within an inch of his life so that it would live up to Jess’s standards, half a dozen trips down to the laundry room had been made _and_ she'd persuaded him to revise with her.

When that was done, Jess had insisted on an impromptu lecture on his bed and then it’d been clear what she’d meant by ‘stuff’. He was now fully equipped with all manner of items in his bed side table and left wondering how exactly Jess had access to such a wide range of supplies. But mostly, he’d been mortified at the speech on the virtues of a safe and healthy sex life orated to him by someone he saw as his adopted older sibling. Despite Isak insisting that he was more than aware of what she was informing him of, Jess had simply scolded him and imparted that good education wasn’t going to come from porn.

Isak had intended to contend her statement—he didn’t get his information from unreliable sources—but he didn’t want the conversation to drag on any longer than it had to. A sudden and inexplicable wave of irritation had swept over him as the sun had set, and it left Isak wanting nothing more than to just close the door and be alone, but he didn’t want to be rude—not to her. By the time Jess had left, he’d been so exhausted that he had no memory of his head even touching the pillow.

But now he was awake, staring at the ceiling in his dark room and wondering what had woken him. It wasn’t a sudden flush of consciousness that he’d experienced, but a slow ebb from the depths of his slumber; a warmth building around his limbs that made his skin itch with the irritation of having clothing layered over it.

Pushing the covers to one side, Isak scrubbed at his face to rouse himself. Blinking, he rolled over to stare at a sliver of moonlight that stretched a long arm across his floor, his curtains fluttered in a breeze that came from the open window and the dim light made waves across the fabric; it was illuminated enough that you could make out the yellow hue. It reminded him of the sun setting over the sea at the inlet.

And as if just thinking of that world heralded Even, the second set of emotions—that he was now becoming familiar with—made themselves known, closer than they’d felt since that morning.

Scrambling out of his bed, Isak was across the room and throwing the window wide open to poke his head out before he’d even filled his lungs. His eyes scanned the car lot quickly before coming to rest on a dark shadow, perched on the hood of a vehicle that seemed identical to the one that he’d ridden in this morning. If he couldn’t positively identify the car, he was able to point Even out in a crowded room and blindfolded. Light reflected from two small orbs below, Even was looking right back at him.

“What are you doing outside?” Isak said in a hushed voice.

The dark shape shrugged nonchalantly. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

He frowned. “How did you know… never mind.” Why did he even feel the need to question what Even seemed to just know anymore?

Thrusting a hand into his jean pocket, he pulled his keys out. “Here.” he called out, before throwing them down. Even caught them easily in one hand. How did he always make everything look so effortless? “It’s third floor, door C. I’ll let you in.”

Pushing away from the windowsill, Isak combed his fingers through his hair as he made his way out of his bedroom. His hands brushed down his stomach trying to flatten his crumpled clothing, it was only then that he realise he was nervous. Why was he nervous? It was still all so new, he supposed, and Even had come to him, in the night...

Forcing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Isak cleared his throat. Having reached the entranceway, he decided that what would be would be, overthinking it wouldn’t help anyone or thing.

Yanking open the door, he found Even already waiting on the other side, leaning casually against the wall. But, Christ, he was so hot that no words could form in Isak’s mouth—it just went dry. It felt like he hadn’t laid eyes on Even in months.

“Hi.” It was said with a smirk, Even knew too well what he was feeling. If Isak had been able to focus properly, he would have felt those same emotions aimed back at him.

“Hi.” Isak repeated, his tongue feeling numb and ungainly.

Nodding towards the door that he was still holding on to, Even frowned. “You don’t lock the door?” He was right; with the main entrance downstairs locked, he nor Jess put the latch on.

Isak snorted. “There’s nothing worth stealing.” But the intensity in Even’s gaze didn’t lessen. He took a step towards Isak, their chests almost touching—stealing one another's breath.

“The only thing I care about in the world is in here. You need to keep yourself safe, for me.”

Isak simply stared up at him, it wasn’t flattery but simple truth to him. Even didn’t bother to mask the fear that lay underneath his skin at the thought of losing Isak. The emotions he now recognised—and let himself feel—almost swept Isak away; a decision had been made within Even and now nothing would hold him back. The passion behind his fingertips was bursting to be freed, to run wild over Isak’s skin. The wave of need clashed with his own, leaving him scrambling for the surface— _for air,_ let alone to speak.

Even knew it, felt him being submerged by it all. Suddenly hands were on him, bringing him into the warmth and safety of Even’s body. His mouth found Isak’s, and the need to say something was quickly quelled by the gentle dominance that Even used to take possession of his lips. It was amazing how, with just the simple touch he received, he became grounded in the moment.

And then he was being walked backwards, safely guided into the room as Even pushed the door shut with his foot and all without breaking away from their kiss. His head swam, all of his senses filled with Even and it was blissful isolation; just the two of them with not a care for anybody else. If Jess had come out of her room at that point, it wouldn’t have stopped either one of them.

“This room?” Even murmured, reaching the door frame that he then pushed Isak against.

“How’d you know?” Isak whispered, once his mouth was released, but Even pulled at his shirt, tugging it down his shoulders.

He snorted a laugh. “It’s the only door that’s open—I guessed.”

Isak grinned at his own overactive imagination, he had a tendency to make everything Even did mystical. The levity skidded to a halt as he felt eyes on him: hungry and determined.

His shirt was on the floor. Registering that it now lay abandoned—just like whatever had held Even back before—his body sprang into action. Gripping the hem of his t-shirt, it pulled easily over his head and it was dropped uncaringly on top of the other forgotten garments piling up. Even was free of his sweater and his fingers pulled at the button on his jeans.

A low, apprehensive moan left his lips as he dropped his head back against the wall. His senses seemed so acute, he felt so much. Those hands pulled him back to solace, turning and drawing him into the seclusion of his bedroom. He heard the door shut, eyes now closed to everything else, he just wanted the feel of Even on him.

But he refused to be passive, and as Even’s mouth trailed down his neck, Isak ran fingers through his hair before travelling over the t shirt that Even still wore. Grabbing at the material, Isak yanked it up over Even’s head, but the disruption didn't stall the exploration. Lips kept moving down his body and Isak dared to open his eyes; Even was now on his knees in front of him, working at the fly of his trousers. Shoes had been toed off and Isak wondered—for a brief and fleeting conscious moment—how Even had managed to do that while caught up in this whirlwind?

“You OK? Should I stop?” Isak refocused on blue eyes that looked up, concern fighting for dominance against the passion. He was _more_ than OK, but his knees suddenly felt weak because Even was there at his feet. What had he ever done in his life to deserve this?

“I’m OK,” he managed, “I just need to lay down.”

And just like that, Even was on his feet and steering them with care towards the bed—two ships anchoring down for the night. His thumbs ran around the waistband of Isak’s jeans, before pushing the material down over his hips; warm palms ran over his smooth skin, causing Isak’s breath to catch and his heart to hammer near painfully in his chest.

His head spun and then the soft of the mattress was at his back. Even tugged the last item of clothing from Isak’s feet, then he was bare for a single heartbeat before he was covered by Even’s body—who’d somehow managed to rid himself of the rest of his clothes too.

Skin slid against glorious skin and Isak was in euphoria. He’d never thought that touching someone else could be this fulfilling—this sensual. In his mind he gave to Even’s touch like water, accepting and absorbing and Even did the same right back. The boundaries of their bodies blurred, one didn’t start and one did not end.

Then the images came, Isak could feel and sense everything that Even wanted desperately to do, to _feel_. Longitude and latitude meant nothing, nor did it matter what planet he was on or what star they happened to orbit. This crossed the lines between dimensions, and he was sure this pleasure spilled into the countless number of universes that existed. That in all those infinite worlds, Isak and Even could feel this, wherever they were and whatever they were doing.

Lips grazed his own in warning before they were kissing again, breathing and then tongues delved deeper still. But he didn’t think he needed those breaths; Isak was convinced, by some notion, all that he needed to survive lay in Even’s sweet kisses. His fingers searched for purchase where they could find it, not needing the stability but adoring the fact that his hands were full of Even’s skin and hair, wherever he put them.

“Don’t leave me again.” Isak managed to rasp, his lips bruised from their exertion. He wasn’t sure where the desperate plea came from but he meant it, with every particle of his being.

Fingers raked through his hair as Even pushed his lips to Isak’s neck, over the vein that pulsed with life and potential. “I can’t— _I won’t_.” he replied, voice insistent, as though arguing the point with someone else. “I’m yours and you’re mine.”

His breath was hot against Isak’s throat, covetous words whispered into his ear, those alone had him twisting and arching beneath Even’s weight. Sure, there were issues they would have to overcome, the ones Isak knew about and those nameless fears that were still hidden from him, but he knew then and there that they would be vanquished; nothing could stand between them.

Hands flowed down his body, tender in their touch and attentive to every facet of him. Even’s fingers traced him; they trailed slow and painful lines across his flesh—writing his name in runes on every inch he discovered. And then they roamed virgin territory, no one had touched Isak like this before. He found himself gasping for air between every precise and thrilling movement of Even’s body against his. The intuitiveness that they shared never lessened, the touches seemed to be where he desired them moments before Isak knew that was what he wanted.

The need to be anything but passive was discarded when Even’s mouth followed the paths his hands had made. He could feel the pleasure that bloomed inside of Even at simply being able to please Isak, to make his body shiver and shake with anticipation and ecstasy. And that adopted pleasure rolled on top of Isak’s own, it was a disorientating swirl but one that he knew he belonged within, they would figure it out—how not to get so lost in it all… or they wouldn’t. Isak didn’t care if they lost themselves like this every night; dead to the world beyond their sheets and living from the life the other body possessed, or the life that they created together.

The thoughts that filtered through Isak’s head were abstract but he didn’t need to understand everything; it wasn’t for knowing, it was for experiencing. For once he didn’t care about the details.

Coherency shattered when the heat of Even’s mouth reached his navel. Anticipation made every part of him freeze before that ardour made the tension evaporate and flood from his body in a long and low moan.

“ _Even_.” he gasped, clutching the sheets so hard it hurt. His eyes had flitted open but they couldn't watch for long; it was all too much to take in at once—too overwhelming to invoke all his senses at once.

But then Even found his left hand, loosening his grip and lacing their fingers together, his thumb stroked over Isak’s knuckles. How was he able to do so many things at once? But the reassurance made him soften beneath those caring hands and his attentive mouth, submitting to the bliss that crashed down on him in unrelenting waves.

It surprised him when he realised the fingers on his free hand were running through Even’s hair, before gliding down his nape and graceful neck, enjoying the way that the body adorning his own shivered to his fingertips, intent on learning the lines of Even’s form.

Time was lost and Isak couldn't work out if he was travelling through space slower or faster; everything was all a blur of feelings and sensations, images and thoughts and his own voice in his ears, repeating Even’s name in supplication—forever grateful to the blessing bestowed on him by whatever energy knitted together the seams of reality.

There was nothing else to do but surrender to it all: the kisses, the touches, the motions… it all overcame him and he gladly dissolved in those forces, every string that held him together unthreading. He was undone and he couldn't control the way he moved and undulated in retaliation to the rapture, nor could he stop the noises that were released from his now hoarse throat as he gripped to Even for dear, sweet life. But he was in these caring hands and he knew it would be OK—more than OK.

Isak drifted in his mind and everything was fluid, time itself flowing around him and healing every wrong that he’d ever experienced as he floated in this euphoric state.

It was the heartbeat that twinned his own that brought him back, conscious thought trickled back into his mind as he became aware of his extremities again and the fact he was now cradled in Even’s arms, held firmly to his chest. Their breathing was in tandem and he held Even back with a fierce devotion that was unyielding.

“Are you back with me?” he spoke softly into the crown of Isak’s head.

“I think so.” He wasn’t surprised at how hard it was to speak, his voice as unsteady as the rest of his body. He pulled air deep into his lungs, filling his body with Even’s scent. It seemed to help his strength return.

“Where did you go?” Even laughed softly, his breath stirring Isak’s hair and sending goosebumps skittering across his skin, despite being safely wrapped in the covers.

“I was with the stars and in the ocean—everywhere and nowhere; I was with you.” And really, it was only that last part of that sentence that mattered. It was only the last part that really made sense, but the words were true nonetheless. He felt it in that strange instinctive way.

“That sounds nice.”

“It was.” Isak sighed. But nice wasn’t the word, _that_ was unlike any experience he’d ever had before. “Have you ever done that—”

“Never,” Even cut him off, pulling Isak closer to him. “Just you.”

“How did you know what to do?” How could he just know where to touch and kiss?

Isak felt him shrug. “I don’t know, I guess I just listened to you.”

“But I didn’t say anything.”

Even laughed again, a fond and comforting sound. “That’s not entirely true. But I didn’t mean from your mouth, I listened to your body. It’s hard to explain, but when it felt good for you it felt good to me too.”

Isak frowned as he thought through the statement. He’d been able to feel Even’s intentions when they’d first got on to his bed, but he’d become so spaced out from what Even was doing, he’d lost track of where the boundaries were for their separate emotions—or what else they might share in their intimate moments. But he wanted to know what Even meant from experience.

Shifting around, he gained the high ground by pushing Even to his back and sliding his body over him. Hands were framing his face as he found Even’s lips, kissing him like there’d be no tomorrow. Now it was his turn to find those vibrant pulse points that ran down Even’s neck and flowed through him, leading the way further down his body.

“What are you doing?” Even almost laughed the words, but the question was punctuated by a quiet moan as Isak kissed along his collarbone. His fingers began to trace dangerous paths down Even’s stomach, writing his claim upon the body beneath him, just like he’d been claimed moments before.

The uneven breaths already coming from Even made him grin into the flesh that his mouth roamed. The abstract messages started flooding into his brain and Isak decoded them. They told him where to go, how to touch, when to move. The pleasure that Even felt began to burn just as strongly within Isak’s chest, satisfying or fulfilling didn’t come close to describing how that felt. And when he saw goosebumps spread across Even’s chest, he felt phantom prickles on his own skin.

Isak’s mouth left his body just long enough to murmur his reply. “I want to give you the stars.”

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue ball status: rectified 
> 
> Also, this is how editing goes with my beta:  
> Me: I left them in an awkward place  
> Her: How so?  
> Me: Even is on his knees.  
> Her: With Isak's cock in his mouth I hope...  
> Me.... almost.
> 
> You can see I have to change my tone somewhat for this fic... LOL <3


	9. Vengeance is Completion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Even, please.” They emerged on an unstable breath before a more vulnerable whisper followed. “I need you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a long chapter here. Sorry for that, I didn't want to fragment the story any further so here is the thing.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Love, Becs

“So,” Even began, frowning at the window where the curtains fluttered in the breeze, “you're telling me there are infinite Isaks and Evens… lying just like this?” He could lay here for hours and just listen to Isak’s hypothesis on all things, big and small. His mind was so complex and deep, he soaked up knowledge so easily and Even loved absorbing him whilst Isak swam within his element.

“Yeah… I mean there are some differences. Like I'm next to the wall... or,” he shrugged, “the curtains are orange. But, whatever happens in _this_ universe, we're together.”

“For infinite time?”

Isak hummed in agreement. “So we're always together somewhere.”

Even let the idea sink in, pursing his lips at the invariables that presented themselves to him with the ideal. “I'm not gonna count on that, I'm still never leaving you.”

Isak looked up at him. “Good.” he said in a softly solemn way.

“Unless you get tired of me.” Even teased, trying to dissolve Isak’s tension.

But Isak just continued to stare at him in all seriousness. “That'll never happen.”

“You're so sure?” Even grinned back, hoisting Isak onto his chest. He liked just looking up at him and seeing what colours the sun would highlight in his hair and what shade his eyes would choose today. Sometimes his eyes were hazel and gold, like autumn leaves, and sometimes they were as green as spring saplings; and a kaleidoscope of autumn hues lay within each strand of his hair.

“I've never been surer—and I'm a scientist, so that's saying a lot.” Even traced the corner of Isak’s self-assured mouth with his thumb. How could every single detail of him be so perfect?

“You'll only be a scientist in theory if you don't study.” he chided softly. Somehow he was able to be supportive and make sure Isak stuck to his revision schedule but it was a constant battle. Luckily for them both, Isak sensed that battle and didn’t test Even’s resolve too much. Not usually in any case.

“We can stay here a little while longer.” Isak smirked at him, Even knew exactly what was on his mind, he bit his lip at the thoughts that began to taunt him.

“You're incorrigible.” But his voice was gentle, in contrast with the reprimand. He loved the appetite they both shared and he could probably be tempted to slack this morning…

“You love it.” Isak said knowingly before his eyes came to rest on Even’s lips. “And maybe we could—”

The knock on the bedroom door cut him off, but Even knew what he wanted to suggest. He wanted it too, and just as badly, but he'd held back. He wanted to be honest about everything first.

_“Are you guys at it again?”_

Isak sighed a heavy breath as Jess’s voice carried through the door. “We could have been.” he shouted back at the same time the door was swung open and Jess peered excitedly into the room.

It had already become a daily ritual and Even couldn't help but feel fondness at being welcomed so enthusiastically into the fold, it was nice to be a part of this tiny community they made. He wasn't so sure Isak agreed completely—he wasn’t quite willing to share Even with the world. But when Jess and Isak had needed to study, Even had helped out in the flat: cleaning or cooking. It’d been over a week since he'd turned up and everyone was benefiting from the scenario, however much Isak wanted to grumble about the smaller things.

“Good morning.” she said, beaming at them both and completely oblivious to the scowl that Isak shot her from his vantage point; atop Even’s chest like a dragon hoarding gold.

“Morning.” Even replied, for both of them it seemed.

Slinking across the carpet, she plopped herself down at the end of the bed. She peered around their room before something caught her eye near her lap. Her hand darted out quickly and then Isak gasped, pulling his foot into the safety of their cocoon and shooting an accusatory look at Jess, who was now snickering at him. Even had to stop himself from laughing too, for fear of being on the receiving end of Isak’s scowl.

“Isn't it a bit early for a wake-up call, Jess. It can't be ten and… is it the weekend yet?” The question was aimed at Even, as if he would have a better grasp of the days that had passed them by in a contented blur.

“I don't know. It's Friday, I think.” Even replied.

Jess huffed impatiently. “It's _Saturday_. Which means…” she trailed off, waiting for either one of them to finish her sentence, but they both looked back at her blankly. What was happening today? “Which means,” she continued, “pre exam party. You two are still OK with it, aren't you?”

Even nodded slowly. The exams started Monday and they _had_ agreed to host a get together, but he was clueless of what that would entail. He hadn't taken Jess for the sort to want a messy, chaotic night unfold in her living quarters.

“What is the plan exactly?” Isak asked, reading the questions Even was formulating.

“Nothing big, about fifteen people. And they're bringing their own drinks. But it won't be late—I don't think. Most of them are nerds so they'll want to get home before midnight; final day of revision tomorrow…” she trailed off, leaving the idea that this was the calm before the storm unsaid.

“OK,” Even put in, “so we just have to worry about food?”

“Uh-huh, and I have chips and dips. We can order pizza?” Jess put to them both, but peered at Even.

Even quirked an eyebrow at her, he knew where this was going. “Or I could make something?”

She grinned at him. “Would you? I could go out and buy some things… just tell me what you need.”

“Jess, you already have the stuff you need, I saw it yesterday.” Isak stated, rolling from Even and onto his back so he could see her—and guard his feet at the same time. Apparently tickling was something reserved for Even alone, one of many things he was learning Isak would let him do, but apparently no one else could.

She shot Isak a look that would have been akin to a child sticking their tongue out. Even had seen her come home with shopping himself, and had anticipated this conversation because it happened every other day, at least. But he didn’t mind letting her think the subterfuge worked. After all, he enjoyed cooking for them, it was a way he could provide and nurture—and that was a part of who he was.

“I didn’t want to assume, and I ask… a lot.” she replied in apologetic defence.

“You do.” Isak asserted before Even nudged him with his shoulder.

“Its fine, I like doing it. I’ve told you that.” And the sentiment was dealt out to both of them.

“Thank you.” she said sweetly, and he could feel her genuine affection and gratitude, not just for him but for Isak too—despite his grumpy facade that Even had figured was a part of his nature. It was endearing to him because it always melted away when Even came close, or touched him. To know he made Isak a better person—or at least a calmer one—just how Isak made _him_ a better being, was intensely gratifying.

Jess chewed her lip considering something before she spoke. “You know, you should call your mum. I’m sure she’d wanna hear from you.”

Even froze at the sudden change in topic. He wasn’t sure how much Isak had told Jess about his mum but she’d ask about her before today, and he’d reacted in an obviously cagey manner—which was understandable given the way they’d parted. He felt he should have gone back already, but the longer he was here—where he wanted to be—the idea of return became more daunting. Isak had noticed too, but when he felt Even’s anxiety, gentle touches and words had been the balm he’d used. Isak naturally knew how to soothe his hurts.

Sighing out tension, he nodded. “I will. I was thinking of going to see her tomorrow, while you both revise.” And instantly Isak’s stomach tightened in nerves that he might not come back—which was an absurd notion; he’d always come back.

Taking Isak’s hand, he brought it to his mouth to kiss his knuckles, and looked deep into his eyes. “I’ll always come back to you.” And he felt the fear melt away at the warmth of his gesture.

“I know.” Isak said, before a grin made him soften. To anyone else’s ears his words would sound cocky.

Jess cleared her throat. “Well… I guess that’s settled. I’ll shower and see you in the kitchen, I can give you a hand with… measuring and… things?” She said in an unsure manner.  

“And things,” Even repeated with a laugh, “I’d appreciate the help.”

“I can help, too.” Isak offered hopefully.

“You always help, baby, ‘cos you always look so damn hot. It doesn’t help the cooking, but it helps my heart rate stay dangerously high.” he grinned as he pushed his mouth to Isak’s throat, enjoying the laugh Isak was trying to hold back from Jess, because—whilst she was here at least—he didn’t preen under adoring comments. Well, he tried not to, but he could never hide the burst of delight that Even felt ignite inside him when such things were said.

“You’re so corny.” Isak said, the laugh seeping through his words.

“Ugh, you two are gross.” Jess’s heart wasn’t in her words, she might not know it but her pleasure at seeing their happiness was detected, and it weighed far more than her jibes.

Even felt her weight shift from the bed as she began to make her exit, but her feet didn’t move. He felt her hand on the covers a second before she tugged at them. It was only Isak’s quick reaction that saved them from exposure.

“ _What the fuck, Jess_.” Isak yelled after her as she escaped the room, thoroughly amused at herself.

“Get up!” she called back over her shoulder before she vanished.

Even couldn’t hide his own amusement either, which earned him that scowl he’d been trying to escape.

“I guess we’re getting up then.” he announced, obviously dispirited by the prospect.

“Well, we could stay a little longer.” Even tried to wrap his arms around Isak, but he wriggled free.

“No, no— _you_ made a deal, I guess you’ll have to wait.” He stood from the bed, completely naked and cast a look back at the bed, because he’d feel the heat of Even’s eyes on him. And the smirk said he thought this was appropriate compensation for Even sharing Jess’s mirth at her attempted prank.

“I can wait a little longer, I’ve waited my whole life already.”

Isak shook his head, but that smile was there that, even had they not shared their bond, would have told Even everything he needed to know. “Did I tell you, you’re corny?”

“You did, but I know you love it.”

Isak bit his lip as he chucked a t-shirt at Even’s face. “I do.”

* * *

Isak gripped at Jess’s elbow as she bustled past him with a bowl of chips.

“Jess.” he said, loud enough to be heard above the din; the music wasn’t blaring but there were several excited conversations happening in their tiny shared living space. She turned back to him, grinning when she noticed the frantic look he couldn’t mask.

“You having fun?”

Isak rolled his eyes at her. She knew he wasn’t having fun. “Didn’t you tell them?”

“Tell who, what?” She asked, mock confusion painted her face.

“Jess, you fucking know what I mean.” He said, more rough than he should have. It wasn’t her fault that he and Even kept getting split up.

Placing the bowl on the table, she turned back to him; tilting her head to one side, she gave him a knowing look. “It’s not my business, Isak. I thought you knew me better than to gossip.”

“Well that wouldn’t necessarily be gossiping… more a warning.” he retorted, knowing exactly how ridiculous that sounded.

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes. “This is down to you two, I’m sure Even wouldn’t mind if you said something.”

“But then I’ll just look jealous.” And now he was being contrary.

She sighed with exasperation before crossing her arms across her chest. “So, what do you want?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just want Even.”

“Like I said, he won’t care if you yell it at the top of your lungs—”

“But I haven’t asked him if it’s OK. That wouldn’t be cool, even if you think he wouldn’t mind.” he stated petulantly, looking across the room to where Even stood, surrounded by three girls and one in particular—Sandy was it? It didn’t matter what her name was—looked at him like a hawk watching a mouse. Even seemed completely unaware of the attention he was attracting.

Jess nudged against his shoulder. “Just go up and join in the conversation.”

He’d tried several times but he kept getting distracted, for one reason or another. The coast was clear now, but just as he took a step forward to cross the room and stake his claim, one of the reasons announced themselves, and not so subtly.

“Hey.”

Isak flinched at the sharp tone that was used to greet him. His shoulders slouched as he turned to address the interloper; he couldn’t be rude, not when they were the hosts. “Hey…. Emily?”

“Emma.” she corrected, unfazed by the fact Isak hadn’t remembered her name. He didn’t know much about her, having only met her—and most of the others invited—at other gatherings a handful of times before. And more often than not he had probably ended up a little too drunk to be considered polite company. That was before Even.

“Right…,” he hesitated, not sure where to take the conversation as she stared at him in expectation, “you enjoying the party?”

“Sure,” she answered enthusiastically. She really was sweet, but he had absolutely no interest in anything other than Even and he couldn’t see that changing in this particular lifetime. “I got you a beer—from the fridge.” The cold can was presented in a dainty hand extended towards him. What did he do? It wasn’t like he could refuse, it was a nice gesture.

“Thanks.” The word was mumbled around the can as he took a deep swig. He just wanted his room and Even and nothing else, not even clothes…

 _Jess_. He could try and get them talking and then he would slip away. But when he turned back to the table, the chips were standing on their own and Jess was across the room, engaged with a group playing cards. Damn it.

“You look distracted.”

“What?” He turned back to Emma, only just catching her statement. “Yeah… I’m just tired; studying.” It was a clipped sentence, said like it explained everything. But she nodded like she got it.

“I know, right? I'll be glad when the exams are done.”

“Me too.” Isak replied, absentmindedly looking over her shoulder to where Even stood. He looked right back at him, shooting a bright smile across the chasm that separated them, before someone pushed against him playfully. What were they talking about?

“So, your friend—I've never seen him before. He seems cool.” Her gaze followed Isak’s to where Even stood, now in an animated discussion that apparently required wild arm gestures.

“Even,” he corrected without realising, “and yeah he is nice.”

She snorted a laugh. “Sonja seems to think so.”

“I bet.” Sonja… he tried not to dislike the name on principle but it was extremely hard.

Then he found himself wondering how people didn’t go mad when they couldn't be themselves, or love who they wanted to, however and wherever they wanted? It was a simple right that everyone should have—it was a right that _he_ wanted to exercise.

“So,” she cleared her throat, trying to catch Isak’s attention but he was oblivious to her cues, “I've not seen you around for a while. It's been a busy semester.”

“It has.” he said, it had been more so for him, between juggling his visits to Even and studies. He’d expand his statement and divulge more information if he wasn’t so caught up trying to read lips.

“You remember that party after Christmas? Well, I heard…”

Isak tried to listen but he zoned out, nodding when he thought he should and humming when there was a pause. She seemed content to keep the conversation going but he was somewhere else; he was with Even in his bed, under the covers and safe from the world. Blue eyes flitted up to him when the thought swirled in his mind, because, of course, Even would sense it—regardless of the numerous other bodies filling the room.

Isak grinned to himself. He still hadn't got Even back for his tease in the kitchen at his house. Well, he could rectify that now, he would get his vengeance.

He let his eyes wander over Even, watching the way his mouth moved when he spoke and imagining all the things he knew it could do so well. And then his hair, he could feel the strands between his finger, and there were Even’s eyes that could undress him before hands would, and that he could vividly see rolling back in Even’s skull when Isak put his mouth to work on him. He knew by heart his scent and taste, the texture of his skin on each and every part of him, he knew the slow glide of his hand, from the back of Even’s knee down his thigh, caused a low groan of anticipation and make fingertips dig into Isak’s flesh in pure want…

So lost in his own fantasy, it took him a long moment for consciousness to return and Isak to register Even’s gaze heavy on him. His jaw was slack and his eyes burned into him, there was no one else around them now. Isak couldn’t help the smirk that pulled at his lips.

“...so, you think she’s single?”

Isak blinked at the question, he had no idea what Emma had been saying for the last few minutes. “Who?”

She sighed with exasperation. “ _Jess_. Sonja won’t stop talking about her, since the Christmas party? I’m trying to play cupid.” Sonja was interested in Jess? And Emma was here trying to match-make?

“Yeah, I think she is.” he replied, suddenly feeling shamed for the assumptions he’d made and the thoughts that had run wild and boundless in his head. But that was cut short by a strong wave of determination that hit him, and it was not his own.

“Well, that’s a start.” Emma smiled to herself.

Isak intended to reply, to offer some support or advice to assist with the match making efforts—Jess and Sonja would make a cute couple, he could admit that now jealousy was well and truly done with—but the only thing that was released was a stuttered, apprehensive breath. Because when he looked up, Even was stalking across the room towards him. Well, he _had_ asked for it. Emma frowned at him before turning towards the light touch that rested on her arm, barely able to question the apology she was offered by Even as he moved past her.

The last thing he registered of any living thing outside of himself and Even was a small laugh that came from Emma and Jess’s voice calling across the room for them to take it to the bedroom. But he didn’t care, Even was on him, his mouth and hands and relief seeped into Isak’s bone before quickly turning to a passionate heat.

His heart beat once and a door was thrown shut.

His heart beat again and he was on the bed.

* * *

There was a stillness: in the air, in the world, in their very bodies. Time slowed and green eyes looked up to him, into him. They saw through everything—things that Even thought were barriers—as easily as if they were steam: rising, dissipating into nothing. Isak saw past it all and accepted him for what was at his core. He loved him despite and because of everything that he was, each and every molecule. In the exact same way he loved Isak.

He should have known this, perhaps he _did_ know that the bond would reflect identically, but the practical knowledge and to experience it were not one in the same. Not by a long shot.

A breath left him that it seemed had been held his whole life; he wanted to be one with Isak in every way. A faith bloomed within him that this wasn’t doomed, that he could have this—they could have this, and for as long as they wanted; forever.

And he would tell him—he _would_ —but this desire that they both felt was magnified and on loop between them, it was never ending and all encompassing; Even couldn’t hold on to sense or propriety any more.  

The words he felt in Isak’s mind were there in his own, three simple words. They wanted to be expelled along with the kisses that were pressed into neck and shoulder, but the only thing he found he could do was fill his lungs with Isak. For a being that could survive both in and out of water, he drowned in Isak; and he didn’t want to be saved.

His heart thudded in his ears and it beat alongside Isak’s, a heady rhythm that their bodies made together. It was irresistible not to follow, just like the way his mouth followed the lines, where muscle met muscle, on the landscape that lay trembling beneath him. Isak was his earth and he would explore every terrain and each millimetre.

His hands and lips had worshipped him this way before, and they would never tire of the sensation that was pouring bliss upon Isak’s flesh with his own. But there was a need, and he could no longer detect whether it was his or Isak’s, but it was there and it burnt so strong that it compelled him—no, it overpowered him to want to give and receive in equal parts.

Desire gave birth to instincts and Even didn’t wait to be told, because he didn’t need to hear his words again, he wouldn’t make Isak ask twice. Easily and without hesitation, Even roamed over him, finding new places that elicited pleasure, both within and without—he wanted to be everywhere and all at once.

By the time his mouth had found Isak’s again, desperation made the hands that gripped Even pull stronger for him—sure and wanting with no fear in sight, or within any of Even’s range of senses. And when he finally moved his body against Isak’s, he could do nothing but stare as Isak dropped his head back into the soft of the pillow, his lips releasing a gasp of relief as deep and pure desire was finally satisfied.

Even stalled for an instant, captivated by the way Isak seemed to bloom beneath him. He was losing track of whose emotions belonged to who, but he wanted to focus on Isak; he had to know if he should stop or carry on, go slower or faster. The fretting was cut short and answered when Isak opened his eyes—dark and almost eclipsed by black—fingers anchored into Even’s flesh before soft words were uttered to him.

“ _Even, please_.” They emerged on an unstable breath before a more vulnerable whisper followed. “I need you.”

He wanted to apologise for his delay, for his hesitation when Isak always seemed so aware and sure of what he wanted. The fear of hurting him still burnt so strong inside of Even; Isak was the most precious thing that had been within his care. Just the thought of inflicting one single hurt devastated him. But here he was, being welcomed into the warmth and ecstasy that lay within Isak. He needed Even with an alluring frenzy and couldn't be tempered or refused.

He wanted to say _something_ , but his tongue failed him. Instead, he filled his mouth with Isak’s kisses and skin and sweat and pulse, until he felt intoxicated. And as the sensations overwhelmed him, his body began to move on impulse and completely in tandem to the way that Isak heaved beneath him.

The hands that held firm to him—adamant not to relinquish their hold—urged him closer, nearer, deeper, and Even obliged. His skin slid over Isak’s and he could feel every nerve that was caressed and grazed on both their bodies; he could feel the new emotions that surged through them both, provoked by their first intimate endeavour of this kind. This week has been full of intimacies, but not like this—not making love.

Even realised his eyes were closed and his nose was buried in Isak’s neck. As well as the arms that held him, Isak’s legs wrapped around him and his hot, heavy breaths hailed down on Even’s skin. Lips that parted like petals, expelled the sweetest noises he'd ever heard—almost words, whispered and mingled with groans that came from the depths of Isak, from his very core.

God, but this was everything he could ever want, that he'd ever need. He tried to tell Isak that, sounds rolled from his tongue like a waterfall but he wasn't even aware of the words he used—it could have been a foreign language he spoke for all he knew—but it felt _right_. It just came from his heart, entirely unfiltered by his brain.

And Isak held him closer, a sound of surrender came from his mouth before he found the ability to reply. “I love you, too.”

Fingers were in his hair as he kissed Isak, taking the taste that came with those beautiful words because he wanted it all. He felt greedy, or Isak did… he wasn't sure anymore, but he gladly went with that emotion and it was reflected eagerly back at him.

His body pulled flush with Isak’s, the motion caused his head to fall back again, eyes closed and chin tilted to the heavens as he groaned in pleasure. Even couldn't stop himself from taking advantage of the vulnerable skin bared to him, his lips worked their way down Isak’s neck. Between the kisses and gentle bites, he repeated those simple words, pushing his love into Isak’s skin. Groans became soft giggles at Even’s amorous tongue before the mirth was lost again in their mutual infatuation with this craving that they birthed.

And he could swear that the moon was full by the way the tide swelled. He felt like the waves, breaking themselves upon the shore; and just as much of himself was lost to the parched sand as was taken back with him into the depths—where the land meets the sea. But it felt like a summer storm too: the air was thick and heavy, the world moved around them in opposing gales, the clouds above heavy and full of rain ready to break upon them. But they were at the eye of the storm, nurturing and sheltering a calming love.

Then he moved in a way that forced a desperate noise from Isak’s throat. His eyes shot open and pleasure exploded within him that, not only did Even feel as his own bliss, it blurred his vision, too. He didn’t need to see. He was compelled to do it again and again, making those blessed noises louder and fuller, echoing from the walls and raining down upon Even’s bared back. And he couldn't stop, his hand gripped Isak’s thigh, tilting his hips and keeping him close so the euphoria could be driven to fruition, to completion.

Isak’s eyes rolled closed but Even knew he could still see, he was watching the stars and he always took Even with him. And they would swim in that ether just like Even imagined they would dance in the depths of the sea one day.

There was a deceptive calm, it would worry Even if he couldn't feel the wave of exhilaration that Isak was drifting on. But he knew the edge was coming, that sharp fall that Isak would descend and Even would be helpless, unable to resist following after.

And as if just thinking it summoned that peak in elation, Isak’s entirety braced itself around Even—almost disabling his ability to breathe. But he didn't need to breathe right now—he didn't want to. All he wanted was stillness as he committed the moment his name was evoked with such desperation to memory, it made his blood sear as it raced through his body; and then that same heat spilled between them.

Even was dragged along, unable to stop the barrage of emotion and sensation that rolled over him, and he didn’t want to stop it. He would surrender to Isak just like Isak surrendered to him; and so he let go and the purest rapture took over.

When sense came back to him, the only thing on his lips was Isak’s name, murmured over and over because there was nothing else for him, not in this or any other world. Only Isak. Only him. Forever.

Using the last bit of strength he had, Even rolled on to his side with Isak held firm against his chest. It always took a little longer for him to come back, he didn’t have as much practise as Even did at trying to stay sane in a turmoil of spirit and soul. But even his own experience couldn’t prepare him for what they experienced together, and _this_ had been far beyond anything else yet. It wasn’t surprising that the maelstrom seemed to send Isak into another dimension.

“Are you back?” he whispered when he felt a deeper sigh leaving the body he held like his life depended on it, because he knew it did.  

Isak murmured something illegible into Even’s chest as a kiss was pressed to his damp forehead. Letting Isak melt back into the mattress, Even leaned over him to grab wipes from the draw and a towel, carefully folded and close to hand. They’d learnt before tonight to be prepared.

By the dim light that filtered into the room, Even tended to Isak, who was still muttering some form of weak protest. “Hush,” he half chuckled the soft sound, “just rest your eyes for a bit, OK?” Despite the dark, Even knew Isak would be frowning as the towel was drawn gently over his skin.

“I have to do it to you.” he managed to reply, but he was in no state to stand by his words.

“You can get me back all you want,” Even replied, as he slid into the spot next to Isak again, wrapping an arm around his waist as Isak turned into him, “just rest first.”

And maybe there were more protests intended but they were postponed in exchange for the peace of their hearts beating a serene and slow rhythm together. Another sigh came from Isak as he nestled deeper into the caress.

The conflict that was never far from the surface of his skin suddenly hit Even; he should tell Isak before they did that again, because it would only become harder to be honest the longer that he left it. Isak _should_ know, especially considering the consequences now Even intended to stay.

“Baby?” Even whispered into the dark.

The only reply came in the form of breaths, languid and deep with sleep. Something urged him to wake Isak, but he smothered that instinct quickly; there would always be the morning, or whenever it was that Isak would wake him up with hungry kisses. He could tell him then, but for now he wanted to swim with Isak in deep slumber. Peace washed over him as he closed his eyes to the world for the last time that a secret would lie between them.

* * *

It wasn’t Isak’s mouth that woke Even, nor his hands or voice.

Even stared at a spot on the wall, he knew what direction lay beyond that barrier and, more importantly, he knew who. It wasn’t warmth he felt, or peace. It was fear and dread and they were both his own; fractures in his heart, that he never knew were there, began to make their presence known. But fractures for who?

The room was pitch black as he got out of bed and began to dress. The moon and the stars were hiding behind thick storm clouds that he didn’t have to see to know smothered the sky, and he could feel the rage they brought—even if he didn’t understand it.

Pulling the covers over Isak, Even pushed his lips softly against his cheek. “I’ll be back, sleep until then.” His words were a softly uttered prayer, and Even willed that it would be granted.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie - I know you said you liked my subtle hints so I apologise for all the heavy handedness in this chapter! LOL <3


	10. And With the Tide, Came the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I've spent the years since your father died trying to protect you from the bond we shared, to stop it from happening to you so you wouldn't hurt like I do.” She smiled fondly, fingers stroking through his hair. “But I know I wouldn't have exchanged this life for a life without him, I'd take the pain every time. It was a rare gift and not one that was promised forever.” She stilled and her face became serious. “I should never have let my pain become yours.”
> 
> Even shook his head with vehemence, the tears kept coming and he felt them land on his bare chest. Or was that rain? He realised the heavens had opened above them and he knew that meant the time was drawing near.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday all <3 Here is another chapter. 
> 
> I just need to say thank you to Miss Wendy cos you're always my source of motivation <3
> 
> Enjoy....  
> Becs

Even knew what this was before he'd even entered his home; every revolution of the tyres seemed to multiply his fears, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of blame at what was to come— _what-ifs_ kept tormenting him.

The dark was bleaker than ever before and the wind hurled itself in protest against the car. His natural instincts warned him—the world warned him, preparing his strength for this very thing. And yet, his heart thundered in his ears with every step through his home, and, as he pushed the door open to his mother's suite, bile still rose in his throat.

There she sat at her dressing table—back straight and looking at her reflection in the mirror that was set before her—returning her hairbrush to the side and positioning it just so in its rightful place one last time.

She was dressed in a silk night robe that was more than familiar to Even; it was the same colour as the twilit sky on a clear night, and her long silver hair spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall. Despite the morbidity to the scenario, there was a serene grace to her actions and features; she had come to peace with this—with letting go. But Even had not.

Turning to him, she smiled—it was unsure and apologetic. She was not apprehensive of her actions, but of his own reactions. “I'm ready.” she told him softly, as if this had all been a prearranged scenario. In his heart he knew somehow that it was, that this was the only way—that it had been the only way for years.

Even tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it wouldn't budge. Words failed him and so he simply nodded, watching with a fearful acceptance as she stood and began to take gliding steps towards him, before linking her arm through his.

And he knew, the part of him that was Merman knew where they would go. The journey through the house was a near silent procession, only the soft sound of her soles passing over the wooden floor and a farewell croak from a hidden frog in the sunroom marked their passage. And every step taken sent foreboding rippling through Even.

All too soon their bare feet passed over the rough wood of the jetty until they came to a stop on the last plank, this final divide between worlds. It was strange, Even didn't remember them descending the staircase. How had they reached this point already? He'd been preparing so many words he needed to say that he was barely aware of anything else. How did he say goodbye to her? Trying to clutch onto the moments that remained was like trying to grasp water with his bare hands—they simply slipped away from him.

His body operated on autopilot as he helped her remove her gown and then sit—naked as the day she was born, all those decades before. Something soothed him in folding the silk material and placing it with care on the platform; the garment had been a gift from his dad and it was an elegant item, treasured throughout the years. And now it would never again feel the warmth of her skin.

“It's been years.” she whispered staring out across the sea; it reflected the light of the moon in the same silvery sheen as her hair, flowing down the pale skin of her back. Even frowned at the moon, admiring its stubborn nature to break through the storm clouds, almost as if it needed to bear witness to this farewell. “I shouldn't have stayed away.” Her feet began to sway gently back and forth as they dangled in the water.

Questions whirled in his mind that never made it to his mouth. Why had she stayed away so long? If she'd gone back to the sea, would this be happening now? Would the waters have mended her where the land did not? But any answers he was given, if she even knew them herself, would make no difference now. All he could do was let go and observe his mother's wishes.

Stripping down to his own skin, he sat beside her, deciding to take these last precious moments as they were and had been for more years than anything else: two humans, alone together.

“I hope you can forgive me for this.” She turned to him now, a focus in her eyes he'd not seen in a long time. But he couldn't hold her gaze, his chin dropped to his chest.

“There's nothing to forgive. You held onto a life that gave you no joy. It wasn't fair for you.”

She shook her head mournfully. “ _You_ gave me joy—every single day. I should have shown it more. I'm so proud of you, Even,” she reached towards him, the palm of her hand soft and small on his cheek. “And your father would be, too.”

Even blinked away the tears that threatened to break free of his lashes. He felt something within him was tearing away; as silent and lonely as the years had been, she was still his mother. The memories of her smile and wonder, softness and dignity would always be foremost in his mind.

“You've found your belonging, and I,” her hand slipped from his cheek as she gazed across the water again, “I no longer belong in this world.”

“I didn't mean what I said,” he said, voice rushed and unsteady on the storm of emotions he felt within, “I'm sorry, mum, I was wrong—”

“No, you were right. And there's nothing to be sorry for, I’ve hurt since he left and with every heartbeat, now I'm hurting you. That's not how we are, it’s not how we’re supposed to be.” And she smiled softly at him, he could feel the pride that she spoke of in his intuitiveness, it unfolded within her and was reflected in her features.

“I don't want you to go.” Even’s voice was small and it broke on the words as if they were the cliffs that the waves dashed themselves against; he felt like a child again—microscopic in this overwhelming world, and soon to be orphaned.

“I know.” she said gently, her attention on him once more and caught somewhere between guilt and peace. He couldn't let her stay for his sake, he couldn’t keep her in this unforgiving purgatory—she deserved so much more.

“But I want you to be free.” Free from the pain and the heartbreak, free to reconnect with that soul that twinned her own. “Do you know… _how_?” He couldn't word the question, but she understood.

Shaking her head, her smile became brave—for Even’s benefit. “I just know the sea is calling me home; I will swim far and deep and I'll close my eyes and become the water that made me once more.”

It was Even’s turn to reach out, his hand looked too large as it cupped her delicate face. She sighed in comfort as he alleviated her worries with that tender connection and closed her eyes. “I'll miss you.” he murmured into the quiet between them.

Despite being sightless in that moment, her fingers easily found his chest, pressing against the skin where his heart lay beneath. “I'll always be in here, I'll be a part of your being, and your children’s being.” She paused and pleasure bloomed on her face at her words. “ _My grandchildren_.” Her blue eyes opened to him now and she showed her own delight for the first time in years, it poured into Even as warm as the rays of the sun on the most perfect summer solstice. “I will reside in your own memories. Just make sure you don’t live for the past, but I’m sure you won’t repeat my mistakes.”

And just as if her words were a release, Even could imagine the coming solstice spent here with Isak, a long beautiful day stretched out with just the two of them. Images of possible futures flooded his mind, maybe there was a way he could travel back with him to Oslo? But what would happen here? There would be no one to take care of this place. His mum wouldn’t be here anymore, and the reminder brought him full circle to pain; life would go on and evolve and she would be just another image in a photograph in a cabinet.

He could feel the tears as they made tracks down his warm cheeks. Her fingers moved from his heart and made their way to his teardrops, gently sweeping them away.

“And I won't tell you not to feel this loss, but remember to cry with happiness at the new life that is dawning for you. A new era, one that you shall make your own, full of the happiness that you deserve.”

Even nodded, trying to take her advice and focus on the future rather than the overwhelming and imminent heartbreak of being in the world, not just without either of his parents, but with none of his kin either. But he had Isak; as long as he had Isak he would survive.

“I’ll try.” His voice was so thick with emotion, every word was a strain.

He looked at her again; her lower lip was caught between her teeth and she wore an analytical expression. “I was wrong.” she confessed at last.

He frowned, there was laughter that wanted to be released from his chest at his mother’s admission—she was _never_ wrong, even when she _was_ indeed wrong—but it's escape was blocked by the sobriety of their situation. “What about?”

“I've spent the years since your father died trying to protect you from the bond we shared, to stop it from happening to you so you wouldn't hurt like I do.” She smiled fondly, fingers stroking through his hair. “But I know I wouldn't have exchanged this life for a life without him, I'd take the pain every time. It was a rare gift and not one that was promised forever.” She stilled and her face became serious. “I should never have let my pain become yours.”

Even shook his head with vehemence, the tears kept coming and he felt them land on his bare chest. Or was that rain? He realised the heavens had opened above them and he knew that meant the time was drawing near.

“You were trying to protect me. You don't have to be sorry. I understand why you did it.” And in the moonlight he could see tears staining her own face; soon they would be lost to the sea too.

She shook her head in disagreement. “I've made you question your instincts where I was always taught to embrace mine. Promise me you’ll trust in yourself?”

He nodded, his constricted throat almost stopped his ability to breathe entirely. He wanted to say something of worth but all he could feel was his own sorrow—words didn’t come easy, not for this. But she felt him—she understood—and that would be enough. He focussed on the last part of her statement, but how could he trust in himself when there was so much he didn’t know? He always second guessed himself, a complete contrast to Isak in that respect. Maybe together they could work it all out?

“Isak,” she spoke his name softly as if she read his thought. Hope bloomed in her face and Even imagined her anticipating the future for them both in this world, “he is _good_.” The word was caressed on her tongue; good to her meant all that was worthy. “You both are good together,” she took his hand in her own, and their fingers laced together, “you will have a beautiful life—you should tell him, Even.” She added the last words as if they were of no consequence.

“But you said-” Her hand squeezed his gently, stalling him.

“I said I was wrong, Even.” She took a deep breath, preparing to try undo the damage done by the lessons she’d imparted on him over the years in whatever little time they had left. “He will love you regardless, and you him. Every story has its trials, but I think—” she paused, considering her words, “I think he will accept it easily. He appreciates the honesty you give him, it makes him feel like he can be true to himself—and true to you. Don't leave it too long.” She squeezed his hand again, this time in reassurance. “Your father never came to resent me, I came to resent the land that I was abandoned on. I didn't think I had a choice but to mourn his soul where we’d lived together. I should have known he was with me always.” She touched her own chest now, over where her heart lay. “Inside—not the way I wanted him to be, but he _is_ still there.”

Not the way she wanted him to be? Were there other ways you held onto someone—not just someone, your soul bond? And, as if knowing his thoughts, she smiled coyly.

“I'm not going to tell you everything, son. Some things you have to learn on your own; I have faith you'll find your way there but not for many, many blissfully long years yet.”

Even held her hand tight, for once comforted at the things that he did not know. He wouldn’t repeat her mistakes and waste his life on the unknown—on the invariables. He would live and love Isak fully and with every moment he was granted.

It was a small, childlike giggle that snapped him out of his reverie—it was music to his ears. He couldn't help but laugh as his mum looked at her toes, wriggling in the water with a look of wonder on her face. A delicate and intricate lace had already begun to form between each toe, it glittered as luminous and gold as her hair used to be. “I missed this.” she whispered before turning her eyes to Even, as alert and full of life as he remembered from memories. “But I'll miss you most of all.” He could no longer distinguish teardrop from raindrop, as the rain became heavier. But still they sat, uncaring of the elements around them that had gradually arisen in their defiance of what was to come—to what the world would be losing.

Swallowing his sorrow, Even found the courage to hold her gaze before moving slowly towards her to lay a tender kiss on her cheek. “This isn't a goodbye. I'll find you again.” he told her, somehow sure of that notion because—he realised—it was an instinct.

“I know you will.” Any hurt or guilt she’d held on to left her body as air was expelled from her lungs in a satisfied but weary sigh; the sight of her letting go of all the remorseful years that they’d simply existed through brought an instant comfort to Even. The scars, old and new, were healed within her. “I'm ready. Will you swim with me for a while?”

“You'd have to try and stop me.” Even smiled in trepidation at the request. They hadn’t swum together for years and now this would be the last time.

Slipping off the jetty and into the water, Even turned to help her into the sea, feeling something move in the waters around them; Winston had come to say goodbye too.

He would stay with her until she told him to go, and this time he would heed her.

* * *

It had shocked Isak more than he would have anticipated, waking alone and in the dark. His hand had reached out over sheets that lay cool and empty. Panic gripped his heart in a vice that hadn’t relented since that moment.

He was so cold without Even near him. He felt at his fingers and toes, convinced they would be icy to the touch. And there was a vacant place in him that had been carved out to accommodate Even. No, that wasn’t right, it had been there since his birth and lain dormant, except he hadn’t known how completion had felt until Even. And now he truly knew how black and white and two dimensional the world had been before they’d merged in whatever way they did. He needed him, desperately.

The emotions that lived alongside his own were far away, and they felt less receptive than normal, as if their attention was elsewhere. Either way, Isak had never felt so scared for the loss he was imagining. Why was Even gone? What was he doing? Why did he feel like this?

It had never been a question in his mind if he should follow the connection between them that seemed to tug on his heart urgently. Once he was sure that his mind was not playing tricks on him and that Even was not hiding _somewhere_ in the house, waiting to jump out and scare him, he dressed as fast as he could. He was so completely focussed on following after Even that he barely remembered leaving the house and the journey to the inlet was a wet and windy blur entirely.

But here he stood, hidden by the trees and completely frozen to the spot, watching the scene unfold before him and completely bewildered by what he saw. At first, he’d seen Even and Mischa sat on the end of the jetty—which was strange enough being that it was the middle of the night—but then the emotions had come: deep sorrow, not only coming from Even but from the world around him. The rain felt like tears as they pelted down on the land and the wind whipped around him, pulling at tree branches like a tantrum. And somehow his own emotions numbed and he was simply absorbing everything else. It seemed like if _he_ felt anything—on top of the world in this moment—it would be utterly overwhelming. Is this how Even felt sometimes? The weight of the world battering down his senses?

He could look at it from a perspective he was used to, before meeting Even, and see a rather odd ritual. But now he knew, he could _feel_ this was a departure. How did he know that? And why would Even help? And departing _how_?

Confusion had flooded him way before they’d both slipped into the water together and disappeared. Isak squinted at the surface but he was sure neither of them had emerged, the false dawn that was managing to break through the thick clouds gave him light enough to see most of the water surface in the inlet. But the tide was rising and the waves were swelling in protest to this goodbye, much like the rain and the wind.

Where had they gone? And whose goodbye was this? He couldn't stop the terror that bit at the extremities of his soul, even with his own senses dulled he could feel that fear. Had they both drowned? No—he could still _feel_ Even in the way he could and it meant he was alive, beyond any grief imaginable, but still alive. What did he do?

Isak realised that his feet were now on the last plank of the jetty, ignorant of the waves that fought at the platform, sending freezing spray over him. There was nothing else for him to do than wait, he couldn't go until he knew Even was safe. And then he would have questions, countless questions that were buzzing and swirling through his mind—a storm of their own.

* * *

Even’s head broke through the surface of the water and he threw both his arms around a boulder. Clinging to the rocks of his lookout at the neck of the inlet, Even let himself be overwhelmed with mourning. A sob that ached his entire chest burst from him, one that he'd held back from his mum’s eyes despite the fact she could feel it all the same.

They'd swum deep together with Winston in tow, the shroud of their mournful years had dissipated, and they danced and surfed the currents of the storm. He'd forgotten how golden her scales were, and he was glad that he'd gone with her; the last memories of his mum would be freedom and love.

When she'd asked him to follow no longer, he'd obeyed. With a last smile, she'd surged into the abyss. Even had watched until he could no longer make out the luminous flash of her scales before he made his way to the surface alone, simply to own the satisfaction of having seen the proof of his tears before the sea stole them.

Looking back over his shoulder he watched as the storm moved, the epicentre would follow her. He didn't know how he knew that but it was truth. Pulling himself out of the rocks, he sat with his fin still dangling in the choppy waters, and turned in the direction the storm moved. Every flash of lightning made the world too bright, his own scales almost blinding him with the light they reflected.

Closing his eyes to the world, he focussed all of his energy on that dwindling connection he had with his mum. It didn't feel the same as when he was far from her, when she was a faint impression. Now that link seemed to be evaporating and soon it would be no more. And he should sit here and feel it until it no longer existed, when his mum became water once more. It was his duty.

Something bumped hard against his tail. He tried to ignore it whilst he centred himself in this final meditation, this ritual that needed to be undertaken to properly memorialize his mother. But the bump came again.

“Winston, stop.” he murmured absentmindedly, eyes still closed and focussed. And a third bump came. Irritation flared in him, his emotions were too raw, too close to the surface. Couldn't he just be left alone for these last few moments? A fourth bump, harder now. “ _What_!” he shouted, his eyes opening to find the fish there, snout poking from the surface before it turned and darted into the safety of the inlet. Even’s eyes followed where the animal had swum and there, at the end of the jetty, stood a lone silhouette.

The world stopped moving, despite the storm that battered against every available surface. How could he not feel him until now? _His form,_ the thought was a panicked scream in his head; Isak could see him. With the grey light that crept across the land and the lightning that kept up its exposure, Isak would have seen all of him. But this wasn't how it was supposed to be.

“Isak, no.” he began, dread saturated his voice as it tried in a futile attempt to carry over the distance and elements between them, before throwing himself back into the waters. But the last thing he saw before his head was underwater was the darkened figure stumbling backwards in fear; he was sure it was fear or pain he could feel in Isak, but he seemed closed off somehow—unobtainable. If he could just get there fast enough, if he could explain. Why hadn't he told him before? He should have, that first meeting, or when he’d bandaged Isak’s foot, or _anytime._

His fingers grappled with the wood of the platform as he reached it as fast as his tail could propel him through the currents. Yanking himself up, Even managed to see a flash of Isak before he’d disappeared in the woods at a dead run. He couldn't follow, not yet and he'd never been as frustrated with his form as he was right now.

His mouth opened and he intended to yell out; if he called Isak’s name he would know it was just him— _just Even_ —that there was nothing to be scared of and he would come back. He had to. But as Even filled his lungs with air, a loud clap of thunder broke across the sea at his back. It wasn't just the noise that paralysed him, but the connection was lost—no it was severed. His mum was gone.

Wood came up hard to meet his face as he collapsed in anguished and isolated defeat.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY. IF IT HELPS THIS KILLED ME TO WRITE.


	11. Cast Adrift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Even?”
> 
> Turning in the direction his name had been called, he saw Jess approach with a calm expression on her face, but under that guise he felt her concern.
> 
> “Jess, I just wanted to see him—to give him this.” And it was beyond his control to stop the desperation that flowed out with his words. There was a note of defensiveness in him too, Even wasn't sure what Isak had felt the need to offload and he couldn't blame him if he had. 
> 
> She studied his face as she came to a halt in front of him. “You don't look well.” she stated once her analysis was complete.
> 
> “I'm fine.”
> 
> “No you're not. Neither is Isak.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Here's another chapter. The next update will be trickier: firstly, because I'm gonna be in Oslo for Pride, secondly, it's a sequence that was one of the first to be written, and as such I need to go through it carefully to straighten the snags because stories always change along the way. I'll try and hurry tho… 
> 
> Enjoy,  
> Becs

Numb: it was the only way for Isak to describe how he felt—if he felt anything at all. 

He'd stood and he'd waited and finally Even had returned. He could see it play back in his mind vividly—like a video on repeat—as he'd pulled himself onto those rocks, and where his legs  _ should  _ have been there was instead something that shimmered in the dull light. Thousands of tiny particles reflecting any and all light they could find and making the air around him dance in a maroon mist. Despite the distance between them, Isak had been able to make out the wide spread of majestic fins that should have been feet.

He was glad that—at that moment—his feelings were not his own and he was simply feeding off the world because he wasn't sure what  _ he  _ should have felt. It wasn't horror in any case, or recoil—that he was sure would have stayed with him. Isak was simply stunned and once that shock had faded, the whole world seemed to scream at him in sorrow and despair and fear; he'd had no choice but to run, stumbling and sliding across wet planks and gravel until he’d found his bike and raced home before true dawn arrived. He didn’t stop until he threw himself down in bed, then he didn't move—not for hours. Sleep wasn't even a tempting refuge, Isak was blank; perhaps feeling that much had shut down some part of him.

Then confusion had made itself known. How did he deal with this? Had he actually  seen what he thought he saw? Yes—he was sure of it and even if he wasn't sure, he knew what he'd felt. Even’s mother had left—left the world  _ somehow _ —and they were not human. Or they were part human. And then the confusion along with his ignorance would fold in on itself and he’d had to stop thinking about it; there was no way he could process it. And it made him feel immobile, stuck at an impasse of unsurety where all he knew was that he had exams. That was the only concrete fact right now and so he stayed numb, keeping his focus on the short term: getting through the next few days.

Even had said he would always come back for him and, though Isak was uncertain how to feel about any of this, he placed his bets on those assurances. If he wanted to explain then he would come and reveal things that completely contrasted against a reality Isak had taken for granted. It was a thing of fairy-tales and he had no time to reassess that now, he had to study and focus because there was nothing else for him to cling to except solid logic and facts.

But Even hadn't come. It had been four days, seven hours and nineteen minutes since the moment Isak had turned away from him, and something felt like it was withering inside of him. A part of him was unnourished and it  _ would  _ die. What that thing was he didn't know but he pushed its existence to the back of his mind. It could wait too, it would  _ have  _ to wait.

And he knew that line still extended out from him that connected to Even, but he dared not touch it. After what he'd felt on the jetty, Isak couldn't cope with feeling anyone else's pain, not right now. So he'd ignored it—shut it off; his emotions were locked away in a box and he stubbornly refused to open it.

His eyes flitted from the spot on the ceiling he'd been examining for the best part of an hour to the clock on the wall. Four days, seven hours and twenty five minutes… and now he had to get up and go to his penultimate exam. Just one this afternoon and then the last tomorrow, after that: freedom. 

Freedom to do what though? He didn’t know the answer because, as much leniency as he tried to give the thoughts that sprawled through his consciousness of Even, their relationship was built on secrets and misgivings when he’d thought it was pure and translucent. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore, not even that he was sane— _ especially _ that.  

Those notions had to be quelled, because he didn’t want to feel anger towards Even and if he followed that train of thought, it would inevitably lead to that end. And a niggling instinct told him to go— _ go to Even _ —but that was quashed too, Even would find him if he wanted to explain. Isak had heard him call out, despite the storm that had raged and the blood that beat a sickening rhythm in his ears; Even knew that he’d seen. 

Nodding to himself—for what seemed the thousandth time—his cold logic talked him back on to his focussed course. 

He slid off the bed and grabbed his bag, heading out of his room and for the front door, ignoring the pair of dark, concerned eyes—belonged to his housemate—that followed him through the apartment. She hadn’t probed and he was grateful for it, but that wouldn’t last; Jess could see him hurting but he hadn’t spoken to a soul since he’d returned, soaked to the bone, early Sunday morning. For now, if Isak didn’t talk about it then he could ignore it a little longer. Putting off dealing with how he felt for another day or so seemed like the best approach.

Unaware that the self doubt and questioning had begun anew, Isak didn’t even say goodbye as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

Time meant nothing anymore. 

Even had sat in this spot whilst the sun and moon had both fruitlessly fought their way through the overcast sky. Those clouds hadn’t ceased their occupation above the inlet since his mother had departed. He’d sat here, at the window, and simply looked out across the sea. Isak had sat in this spot, not even two weeks before. They had kissed for the first time that night. Was he already living just for the past? Were memories all he would have?

It was empty and cold, not just this house that now felt like a mausoleum, but within. He'd never felt barren or void like this, always too much and now there was not enough: to make him care to move, sleep, eat, nourish himself or anyone. The only thing he’d accomplished was the construction of his own memory palace: a building just like this house was within his mind now, every single detail remembered on a molecular level, the rooms filled with conversations and interactions from the past—those also captured to each and every fine detail. He could go into those rooms, reliving the life that he’d witnessed and been a part of. 

At one point he  _ had  _ apparently moved, coming through to conscious thought stood in front of the cabinet that held all the family happiness in the shape of photographs. Fragments of life now long gone, maybe it was better to be a fragment of the past, only reflecting the good and joy than be in the present where he felt abandoned and more alone than he knew could be possible. There had always been a sanctuary in loneliness for him, but now he'd felt blissful completion with Isak, the notion that his heart now beat alone in the world, whilst its twin beat out of sync and too far to hear or feel, was a living hell.

Even’s eyes had traced up the shelves, absorbing his smiling, taunting family—all now lost to the sea. His gaze had stopped at the top most shelf, the one reserved for a single cup; it was itself a part of myth and legend. Taking it carefully within his deft hands, Even had sat and traced the shards that had been painstakingly mended with a brilliant blue and gold substance.

The story of the shattered teacup had been told as a bedtime story by his mum, and was a firm favorite for both of them. It was only once Even had grown older that he realised the story was also part of their family history.

Once, there had been a man, so deep in the sorrow of his past that he would embark on an annual ritual: remembering his sister's birthday. She had died all too young and unpleasant wasn’t the word to describe what had happened to her. He would mark that date by taking a single cup, shattering it and then coming here with the broken pieces. At the end of the jetty he’d drop one shard at a time into the heaving waters of the ocean—to be free like his sister could not be, a rite performed to honour a life shattered and irreparable before she was old enough to read.

But what the man didn't know was that he’d been watched by a being of the sea, empathy bloomed as year after year the man returned. And so, on the fourth annual visit, the merman decided to collect the abandoned shards, meticulously recovering every lost piece—completely unaware of the gesture he was shaping, and its effect for years to come. 

It was carefully mended with love and attention, his only motivation was to break through the bone weary heartache that he could sense in the man. Another year passed by and on the day of the man's return, the Merman had bared himself, forsaking the pact of his kin to remain secret from humanity. It took all his courage but he gave back the cup and sealed the wordless gesture with a simple kiss.

The man was moved to his core, surprise breaking through the sadness, and that was quickly followed by an undying love. For the merman had brought the cup back together, from the deep and the terrors. It possessed the scars of the past but that only made it more precious.

And—so the story goes—they lived happily ever after. At least Even didn't have any evidence to the contrary, and from what he saw around him it must be true. They had a family (even naming their first born daughter after the man's lost sister:  _ Mischa _ ), built a house on the cliffs that sheltered their flowering love, and disappeared together in old age—probably vanished down the same path his mother had sought out.

Even’s fingertip continued to trace the lines in the cup. One simple gesture that spawned a legacy, one that was seemingly doomed and all because of him. He felt a failure in their shadow and memory, it was hard not to compare himself against what he knew. His grandfathers had been brave, honest and wise, he didn't even begin to measure up. They would be more than disappointed if they could see what a mess he'd made of his own soul-bond. The line would end here, with Even.

He'd lain on the jetty that night of the storm, uncaring of the way he shivered at the fever that broke through him as his body changed. He’d hoped Isak would return to him, but he couldn't blame him for running. He must have felt it all and completely unprotected—being caught up in a storm like that with no map and no compass. Even had been in the wrong, he'd been the cause of Isak ending up there, and so he'd have to suffer the consequences; it seemed more and more likely the consequence was complete and utter desertion from anyone he'd ever loved.

It hurt, unlike anything else he'd experienced, to imagine that Isak would choose the half-life he would live alone—with them separated—rather than reconcile. Because what Even had done was unforgivable to Isak, and he’d have to accept that. Hurt was not even close to describing the utter devastation at being able to trace the line of their connection with his soul but, instead of finding the warmth that brought life to Even, he found a stone wall. No matter how hard he tried, there were no handholds to help him scale the obstacle or cracks to peer through.

His mum was gone. Isak was gone. There was nothing left for him. His eyes scoured the horizon like it held a clue to this seemingly obvious conundrum. There only seemed one path left for him; a path he knew now how to follow.

Frowning, Even looked back down at the cup. It seemed warmer in his hands, like it had been filled with freshly boiled tea and the heat had permeated through to his skin. But it was completely empty, just as he’d thought.

Perhaps he  _ should  _ make one final gesture before he decided to leave.

* * *

Leaning against a wall, Even tried to gather himself. Mentally he was more vulnerable than he’d ever been, lacking the protection Isak offered from the frantic nature of the world and devoid of any form of anchor—Even felt stark to the uncaring elements that were relentless as they battered against his mind.

People moved around him, not close enough to touch, but he still felt like he was trying to wade through a room that was full of souls, packed cheek by jowl, and straining their voices to be hear above the noise. Every time there was a burst of emotion, whether positive or negative, he felt it like a blow to the gut. He hadn't felt this exposed before, and every step hurt his brain and his heart like shattered glass being ground into his soft tissue.

He'd sat and written then rewritten his note until he’d felt sick with nerves, deciding that the final draft, that he now held in his hand, was the best he could do. And Isak was here on campus, Even could feel him despite not being able to reach him, physically or otherwise. And he wasn't sure if he should seek him out or just leave the note somewhere it would be easily found.

It turned out that today was Friday and, judging by the position of the sun in the sky, it was afternoon—that meant Isak would be sitting his last exam. But Even didn't know whether to wait or not; Isak would feel his presence, just as Even felt him, and he didn't want to be the reason Isak ruined his focus, not when he'd worked so hard to succeed.

Just as he'd made the decision to leave—he couldn't stay here on campus, for his and Isak’s sake—and he began to ponder if he should go to the apartment and push the note under the door or find Isak’s locker, a familiar voice filled the hallway.

“Even?”

Turning in the direction his name had been called, he saw Jess approach with a calm expression on her face, but under that guise he felt her concern.

“Jess, I just wanted to see him—to give him this.” And it was beyond his control to stop the desperation that flowed out with his words. There was a note of defensiveness in him too, Even wasn't sure what Isak had felt the need to offload and he couldn't blame him if he had. 

She studied his face as she came to a halt in front of him. “You don't look well.” she stated once her analysis was complete.

“I'm fine.”

“No you're not. Neither is Isak.” She crossed her arms as she considered him, trying to figure out what had happened simply by observation alone. She couldn't know much otherwise she would have either scolded him for his actions or called him out as a freak already. 

“Is he—how is he?” he asked tentatively. Isak wasn't fine? Was he upset or angry? Was he ill?

But she shook her head. “He's said nothing—not to me or anyone else.” She sighed out some of her frustration. “He's shut down completely.”

The lump in his throat that hadn't gone away all week seemed to swell in size. What had he done? This was damage out of his control. He'd hurt Isak, scared him for life—that's why he couldn't feel him anymore. 

“Even, what happened?” She stepped closer, peering up at him. 

He shook his head, there was no point in trying to explain. There was no point in waiting any longer. He could at least reduce the damage by removing himself from the equation entirely. It was cowardly and he resented himself for the decision he made, but all he could do was inflict more pain.

“It doesn't matter.” he muttered, turning to leave. But something stopped him: the paper between his fingers seemed to warm, like the teacup had.  _ The least _ he could do was offer a goodbye, maybe one day Isak would forgive him.

Turning back, Jess’s concern was now clear on her face.

“Could you just give him this?”

“He’ll be done in,” she looked down at her watch, “about thirty minutes. I’m going to the bar with some friends—he’s supposed to meet us there. You could give it to him yourself?”

“No.” he said abruptly, shaking his head with vehemence, he couldn’t imagine much worse than looking into Isak’s face, most likely full of horror because of Even’s true nature, surrounded by a room full of inebriated people, watching their exchange. “Please, can you just make sure he gets it? Today.”

“Sure,” she replied, taking the paper, “but—” her words died as Even continued his solitary march away from her, back to the sea and without a backward glance.

His path had been set.

* * *

Isak opened his eyes to the spot on the ceiling that he was becoming more familiar with. It was another grey day, he hadn’t seen the sun in a week. If he hadn’t been constantly clock watching then he’d have absolutely no idea what the time of day was. It was constantly gloomy, and the clouds were only building again—just like the night of the storm. That would be perfectly apt; after all the stress, he'd thought something would make sense—now he could do something about it. Maybe a storm breaking would bring the release he needed.

It had been six days, six hours and thirty two minutes since he’d last seen Even, and still he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He’d felt him yesterday, draw near when he’d been sitting his exam, and done all he could to block him out—simply to focus on those last remaining minutes and doing as well as he could. 

But the urge to feel Even when he was so near had been overwhelming, he knew if he reached out with his soul, Even’s would be right there—a cool belonging that he so desperately craved. But he’d resisted and then Even had left.

When he’d hurried out of the hall, all he found was a text from Jess to let him know where they were—there was no note in his locker, somehow that felt like something Even would do, maybe that was in another life. 

Isak had agreed to go with Jess, way back when he was actually talking to people—back when he actually felt like a living person himself. Now everything was ash in his mouth, and that momentary calm that came with the reassurance of Even’s presence only made a more striking contrast against this poor excuse of existence. He felt incompatible with life, alone and without Even.

He’d texted back to ask if Even was with her. Maybe he’d bumped into her and decided to wait? But she’d replied with a simple no, and that was all he’d needed to know; the phone was stuffed deep into his bag and he’d ignored whatever noises and sounds it made. Even didn’t have a phone, and he didn’t want to hear from anyone else. 

When he got back to the flat, Isak had simply passed out. He couldn’t even call what that was sleeping, his brain seemed to disconnect. After everything he was experiencing and trying to undertake single handed, it was finally enough. He’d woken twenty four minutes ago not having moved from the spot he’d collapsed into, surprise was the first emotion he could recall feeling this entire week when it dawned on him he'd slept a full sixteen hours. Surprise was quickly muted by questions.

Why did Even come just to leave again? Had he changed his mind? Isak wished that he  _ had  _ reached out then, as he’d sat in that stuffy exam hall, completely distracted from his paper. At least then he’d have some countenance of how Even was feeling. Gingerly he touched their connection, hoping to feel something but it was too faint to find any warmth. Had Even shut him out? It all felt too much like a rejection, and Isak knew that was a ridiculous notion because why would Even reject him? But he was confused about everything, not knowing if the emotions that were beneath the surface were his own: fear, anger, loss, desperation all tried to gain a hand in Isak’s motivation. 

He’d managed to defy any and all emotions from taking a foothold. But he  _ could  _ feel now… so why was he still adamant to remain barren? Something in his mind kept telling him that it wasn’t about him; the same thing that kept him watching the clock. What was he watching and waiting for?

A knock on the door disturbed his endless and pointless questioning. He was tempted to ignore it entirely, but Jess had been patient with him, he owed it to her to speak, if only to soothe her fears. And she would only keep coming to check on him, it was best to ease her worries now and then he could remain undisturbed until life told him what to do.

“Yeah?” he called out, only his head moved towards the entrance.

The door edged open and Jess peered into the room. Instinctively Isak put a metaphysical block between them, and he was entirely sure how he'd done that. The concern he knew that was very sharp and real inside Jess would bleed into him otherwise, tainting his own perceptions.

“Hey.” she said in a soft voice before shuffling into the room. “How you feeling?”

Isak huffed at her babying. It was unnecessary and he'd prefer she remained her bossy self. “I'm fine.” he impressed. “Did you have a good night?” He supposed he should try and be interested in something, but conversation felt like an effort though—his body seemed to want to conserve energy, for what Isak didn't know. The storm that seemed about to break most likely. 

Jess shrugged. “It was OK.” She nodded towards the bed. “Can I?”

Isak rolled his eyes. Courtesy was new on her. “Of course. Why are you even asking?”

But she let the slight go over her head as she sat carefully at the end of the bed, like she'd break something if she threw herself around like was the norm. “I'm being polite.” She said once she'd settled with her back against the wall.

“Why? I'm not going to break. Just… be  _ you _ . It's better than whatever this is.” He made a flippant gesture with his hand in her general direction.

“OK.” she sighed. “OK. So I'm worried. Is that a crime?”

He took a deep breath before responding. “No it's not. You just don't need to be.”

Frowning at him, she shook her head. “Really? This is the first time you've spoken in a week.  _ You _ . I can never usually shut you up.” She grunted the last words out on a forced laugh.

“Well, you should see this as a blessing then.”

She shoved against his leg with her bare foot. “I will not. I don't like to see you like this.” She chewed her lip, deliberating how far she should probe, but he knew she wouldn't stop, not now she'd come so far. “Isak, what happened?”

And the despondency filled him again. He shrugged, returning to that irritating spot on the ceiling. “I don't know.” And it was the truth, he still didn't know what had happened, or what was going to happen.

“You know more than me. I woke up and he wasn't here and you were dead to the world.”

What had happened? “He went to see his mum.”

“In the middle of the night?”

Isak just nodded. If he spoke about it anymore, that mourning would seep into him again and he wasn't sure he'd ever be ever to shake it.

“Is this something to do with their disagreement? Doesn't she like you?”

And she wasn't going to let up, not now he'd told her to be herself. “I think she liked me—it's complicated. And I don't even know half of it.” And this was where all those secrets he felt Even hiding were rooted. How long had his dogs lived for anyway? Or Winston for that matter? All of these anomalies that seemed to multiply in his mind. Frogs. Something stuck out in his mind about the frogs. Was Even going to tell him then, when he was bandaging his foot? That had been when Mischa had intruded upon them, the first time he'd met her. Maybe she hadn't wanted Isak to know?

“It sounds complicated.” Jess murmured to herself, but she didn't sound convinced. “And you haven't spoken? That's the only way you're going to know more— you know I thought you were smart.” she jibed. 

Isak’s sigh was laden with irritation. “How Jess? He doesn't have a phone. And exams have taken up the whole week…,” he trailed off.

“If you'd wanted to speak to him you would have found a way. You're scared, Isak Valtersen.”

His mouth drew together in a hard line. It's not even like he could be honest with her, she'd think he was crazy. But she was right too, he would be scared if he actually acknowledged his emotions—scared of too many things to list, and things he couldn't list because he didn't know the face or names to those fears. 

“It doesn't matter if I am. He's done with it.” It was petulant and assuming but that's how it felt, when he'd come and gone yesterday.

“What? No he isn't.”

Isak looked at her, confusion creasing his features. “How do  _ you _ know?”

“I saw him yesterday.”

Isak pushed himself up, intent on her. “What happened?” he demanded. He didn't mean to sound so forceful but motivation came crashing down on him within a heartbeat.

“Well, he looked worse than you and that's saying something.” she sighed, smoothing out her skirt. “I tried to get him to stay but he looked sick, like he  _ needed _ to get away. It's hard to explain.” Isak wanted to tell her that it wasn't hard to explain, that—now he thought about it—Even was probably struggling to be around so many people. Isak had been focussing so much on having no idea how to even start processing this, he'd completely forgotten how hard it must be for Even right now. He wanted to say a lot of things but suddenly there was a queue of questions lined up after a week of being mute.

“Did he say anything? Did he want to see me?”

“Of course he did, but I must have said something… I don't know.” Jess shrugged uneasily. “Then he just gave me the note and left.” She bit her lip before she went on. “I'm worried about him.”

Isak blinked. What the fuck was she talking about? What did she say?  _ What note? _

“What did it say?” she asked him softly before he could decide what to ask first. She looked apprehensive of the answer she would be given; she was more than worried, he could see fear in her.

“ _ What fucking note, Jess?”  _ By this point he was all but yelling.

Now it was her turn to frown in confusion. Her hand shot out as she pointed to the pillow next to the wall: Even’s spot. “I didn't want to keep it away from you any longer than I had to, but I couldn't wake you when I got in, so I left it there. I mean it's hard to miss…”

And it was hard to miss, a large sheet of paper that was folded in half. He'd grabbed it before Jess had finished her sentence. His eyes scanned the lines quickly and he paused for a moment of silence before he read it again.

“Well? Isak,  _ what does it say? _ ”

And he had nothing to offer her in reply. Everything he should have been feeling poured into him at once, the one thing that made him deaf and blind to everything other than the scenarios that began playing behind his eyes was absolute and pure fear.

Leaping from the bed, he lunged for the door as the note fell forgotten to the carpet. “I have to go.”

* * *

 


	12. The Boy Who Couldn’t Hold His Breath Underwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... I forgot we were destined to be alone, I hope you can find a way through the loneliness—that you find some happiness without me. Somewhere in another universe we are together always, remember that. I love you, Even.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't leave it hanging too long... because the babies <3
> 
> Enjoy!  
> Love, Becs
> 
> P.S. I forgot to mention, for most every chapter in this story there is a song that inspires it. I didn't think to add it because from experience, readers aren't that concerned with the music that accompanies the writing. But for this chapter, I wanted to add it because the score is just perfect: [Time by Hans Zimmer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxabLA7UQ9k), or, if you really want to kill yourself with feels, listen to the version with vocals: [Lost On You by Chris Hoying and Mario Hose.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vaI7pOjc0M)
> 
> If you are interested in knowing the songs behind the chapters, just let me know and I'll add them to each chapter.

The note.

Why hadn’t he found it sooner? Why hadn’t Jess tried harder to wake him? Why hadn’t Even stayed a little longer yesterday to speak to him? Isak’s irritation and fury bubbled within, his face a grim mask as he cycled through the rain. This was the one instance he regretted not owning a car here, as impractical and expensive as that idea was. But for all the issues his brain threw at him to side-track his anger, he knew there was only one thing that caused this: himself.

_I'm writing this note at the spot we first met, Isak. I don’t know when I last saw you, it seems years now, time is no longer relevant without you...._

If only he hadn’t been so stubborn, so reluctant to face Even, just to speak to him. Like Jess said, he _could_ have gone to him. He’d left it too long and now he didn't have enough time. He should have felt at whatever this was—this thinning of that tie between them. If he'd been attentive, Isak would have known it had grown desperate the last few days; Even hadn't been blocking him out, the bond was wilting along with the body that it was connected to. He still didn’t know what it was they shared but he knew it must be to do with the fact Even was a merman. And now that he felt for it, he could barely sense their bond; it was weak—submerged and dissolving fast.

_...I'm sorry for a thousand things. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth. I’m sorry that you saw what you did. I was scared that if I told you, you'd resent me and you’d leave. I was scared of losing you…_

The rain pelleted at his face and he squinted through a grey mist that had descended on the world. A sheet of lightning flashed overhead, reflecting off the roof of leaves that covered the narrow path to the inlet, and even from this distance he could hear the dogs howling. Maybe he wasn't too late. Please, let him have enough time.

... _I forgot we were destined to be alone, I hope you can find a way through the loneliness—that you find some happiness without me. Somewhere in another universe we are together always, remember that. I love you, Even._

Gravel was sent flying as he skidded off his bike, uncaring as it careered into the bushes. Then he was running as soon as his feet hit the ground, stumbling over roots that he knew were there in his haste. Branches snagged at his face, flogging him in penance, but he paid them no mind even as they left long stinging scratches on his skin. He needed to get out there, he needed to follow this bond otherwise… otherwise he knew there would only be desolation. He couldn’t live with that loss. He _shouldn’t_ live with that loss, it would be far more than he deserved. Or perhaps he did deserve to live a broken half-life alone.

How could he have grown so complacent of everything that he’d garnered here, from this land and from Even? His belonging, his sense of self—all could be found in eyes as blue as the sea on a calm summer day. Ready to throw it away, or let it slip away, over a lie? It wasn't even a lie, just something yet to be told. Why had he been so adamant to run, why couldn't he have just talked to Even? A small voice inside his brain argued that he could do nothing other than what he’d done, that his body couldn’t have coped with the emotional overload he was exposed to—but logic drowned in his self-loathing.

Whatever this was—whatever Even was—he _could_ understand it. He _could_ deal with this, because without it he would have no soul.

Isak’s teeth clattered together as his feet beat against the slick wood of the jetty. If he’d had the time consider it, he would have found it surprising he didn't slip on the drenched surface. But his eyes were fixed on the sea, somewhere out there he needed to be. Out there and not here. He wasn't even sure if he would come back but he _was_ sure that he didn’t care.

The last time he’d travelled down this platform his footsteps had been timid and leaden, now he sped down it in a frenzy. That wasn’t the only difference either; the weather had been in mourning then, but today the elements seemed to rage in protest.

Clothing fell to the floor, ripped off in a careless haste; any extra weight would only slow him down, his shoes kicked off as he ran—perhaps that wasn’t a magic power at all.

Lightning flashed again, bleeding out over the horizon in more forks than he could count, and he clamped down fiercely on the terror he felt as the toiling waves beyond were highlighted. The water looked as dark and dangerous as bubbling tar and it was just as bleak as his hopes. The intermittent light exposed two piles of clothes, folded neatly on the end of the platform as he neared it: a silken robe and what looked like Isak’s own clothes, the ones he’d left here—untouched by the elements and the last reminder to the universe that Even and Mischa had been in this world.

Isak reached the final plank and with no hesitation surged forward in an unpractised dive.

The ice cold water hit him like a slap, making his lungs freeze. Head breaking the surface, Isak gulped down air before plunging below again and swimming with all his might towards that outcrop where he’d last seen Even; where the water became the sea.

Each breath was a hindrance, having to break his stride to gasp before going under the surface. It was much too long before he grasped at the rough rocks at the threshold, fingers numb to the sharp edges that grazed and bit at his skin. He grimaced, looking out onto the wide open wilderness of the ocean, it was formidable but Even was out there _somewhere_. He couldn't make out if the bond was any stronger or weaker, not with the adrenaline and the cold and his heart that beat so furiously he thought his chest would break. But he would not cry—not now, this wasn't the time, despite the ache running through his entire body, begging to let the tears run free—they’d been held in since he’d witnessed Even and Mischa’s farewell.

Even was nowhere to be seen or felt; it was no good, he had to go on. He knew what that letter had meant, even if he had no idea what it entailed. Even intended to leave this plane of existence entirely—like Mischa had.

Despite his own words, Isak let out a helpless sob as his eyes danced across the endless heaving waves.

“ _Even_!” he screamed, the word ripped from his throat and left scars as it belted from him. His cry was lost in the storm. He was helpless— _useless_. It was too big, where did he start? _He_ couldn’t breathe underwater. But what was there if he didn’t have Even? Jess was right, he was scared—petrified of the water that rushed around him, but that didn’t come close to the fear in realising what he’d done, what he’d destroyed.

But he wouldn’t go down without a fight, it was the least he owed. Isak let out a battle cry as he pushed away from the rocks, plunging under the water once more and swimming deep into the darkness below. It was impossible to see anything clearly, the storm that churned over the waves was unforgiving but he pressed on, pushing his limbs to move through water that felt more like cold porridge, until his lungs screamed for air.

Shooting to the surface, he gasped in air and water while the waves knocked him about. His head swivelled around and still there was nothing. Despair started to overwhelm him, this was it. The outcrop was not too far away, he could reach it if he turned back now—if he gave up now.

“You’re not alone, _Even_!” he shouted into the chaos around him. He needed to tell him that, Even needed to know he wasn’t alone, not here. Not like this. He couldn't give up. Closing his eyes, he searched for strength and calm that always seemed so natural to Even.

_Instead of the dark that would normally come, images moved behind his lids. A moment was relived, one he knew but not from this perspective; he could see himself sat at the end of the jetty, a sandwich in hand and a book in his lap. “Hi” said the voice—Even’s voice. Then Isak turned to him, and that feeling of adoration that was Even’s in that moment was now also Isak’s. This was Even’s memory. But instead of panic or disorientation from this piece of data that wasn’t his own, it allowed Isak to breathe easily, part of Even was with him. He could do this._

Opening his eyes, Isak took one last look back to the inlet and inhaled deeply before diving back into the endless bleak below. The ocean seemed to fight him as he pushed through the mass, going deeper and deeper. The water pressed in on him and the rage of the storm grew quieter. He wouldn’t be able to keep going for long, but if only he could dive a little further—maybe he could find him then. His eyes closed again.

_They were in Even’s old room, but again he was behind Even’s eyes; it was the night of their first kiss. Isak could feel the fear as he was examined, and yet wonder at the way his own flesh shone as bright as the moon to Even’s eyes, but overwhelming them all was the love that bloomed when their lips touched. His heart beat all the stronger with the love that flooded him._

The water stung his eyes as Isak reluctantly opened them again; now he could make out underwater ledges and darker cavities that he supposed were caves. Weeds and fishes began to make themselves clear to his eyes, and as another bolt of lightning flashed he could see the sea bed disappear below him at a sharp angle; it was endless—it was hopeless. Another moment came.

_Their skin pressed together and he could feel his own body from behind Even’s fingertips, the reverence with which he was caressed and held, kissed and loved. Isak felt the strength of his own grip on Even’s body and the relief that had supplied, that they needed each other as one. Peace began to spread through his limbs._

But that last gasp of air was used up now and he saw bubbles leave his nose, they would find their way to the surface. He looked around frantically but, aside from small scaled creatures darting around him, there was nothing. He was alone out here.

Isak looked up to the ceiling of this catastrophic environment and could almost laugh at how far away it was, if he hadn't been underwater and out of breath. There was no chance he would make it back up and yet, he was proud by how far he’d dove. He’d tried, as useless as his body was here, he’d done his best. Except that was not—and never had been—good enough. An acceptance washed over him, a deep bone warming surrender as he relaxed. The limited vision he had dimmed until his eyes finally closed to the world and he let the water take him, it felt like arms of comfort wrapping around him—the last embrace of the sea welcoming him home.

_The last memory that came was words. Words drenched in ardour as Even’s nose pushed against his throat, every sense magnified by the being he loved. “I love you.”_

* * *

Even darted through the deep, uncaring of the rocks that scratched against his skin and scales, it was a desperate race that he had no choice but to win. If he’d just been thinking about someone other than himself he would have felt this. He _should_ have felt this, he _should_ have waited. But it had hurt. It had hurt so much, he thought there wasn’t anything left for him but this: to go to the deep and let go, let go of life and enter a new realm, a new universe entirely.

Isak had blocked him out for so long, he thought that was it. It had to be it, what Even was, it just wasn't something you would expect to be accepted like that. That’s why, he supposed, his ancestors wouldn’t tell their secrets when they went on land. His grandfather was the exception and Even truly was made to be alone in the world, forever ailing. That thought had come crashing down on him harder than anything, the feeling of companionship, of love was too great—too fulfilling—to live without it. He’d been sure Isak had cut him off and he wouldn’t have blamed him for that. Jess had said she would give him the letter, he _must_ have read it yesterday—or at least that was what Even had assumed before he’d felt this surge towards him.

It was as he lay still—in a deep and dark enclave, so far beneath the surface that none of the fish dared traverse there—that he felt it. He’d been so overwhelmed with what he was doing, his focus on letting go and releasing his energy back into the fabric of the world while it tore apart above his head to mark his departure, that he’d been numb to their bond. Why had he been so selfish?

It had come as one sharpened spike plunged into his heart. His slowed and relaxed body had lurched from the isolated spot he’d found, head turning in the direction he felt danger; danger to Isak. He’d come but he was risking everything to do so, he was risking his life. If Isak died down here, there would be no punishment that would absolve Even of his own stupidity or crimes. How could he not have felt his coming?

Even held back the myriad of emotions that brewed its own microcosmic storm within his mind, and his face was stern as he pressed through the water. Currents pushed and pulled at him, but he would fight this. He would win, there was no other choice. Otherwise desolation would be all that was left. His strength had dwindled, he was barely conscious when he’d felt Isak’s presence and Even wasn’t sure how much more he could do with the last grains of energy he possessed right now. But they would have to last, at least until he got to Isak.

He’d had to fight the paralysis that wanted to seize him when memories of life through Isak’s eyes began to filter into his brain without warning. He could feel life as Isak experienced it, as their moments together appeared within his mind—one after the other. After the shock faded, they only urged Even faster through the currents, he needed to beg forgiveness from the being that touched him with so much passion and unbridled love, that looked at him with so much awe. He needed to live up to what Isak saw in him. And yet he could relax in the confidence those memories gave to him, their love could never be questioned—never again.

Looking up, he still couldn’t make out the surface but there were fish now. He was close. A flash of light made the water pulse with vibrant life and Even saw something out of the corner of his eye: an ominous dark shape. Swivelling around, he pushed on towards that point. As if the sky knew what he needed, another flash of light illuminated the water and Even’s heart stopped.

The silhouette of a lifeless body was sinking in slow motion into the abyss, so far away it looked like a doll discarded carelessly to the mercy of the sea. The afterimage was burned into his vision even once the light was gone; then he was travelling, faster than he’d ever moved through the water, straight as an arrow towards where that body had been—where Isak was.

The wait was monumental until Even saw him, arms and legs extended and chin tipped towards the surface as he sank. Another few excruciating moments passed until his fingertips grasped Isak, his flesh was icy to the touch.

_Oh, but where is the warmth of life, of love? Please don’t let it all be lost. I love you._

The words were begged within his own skull as he looked wearily to the surface still far above; Isak had swum so deep. Even’s chest constricted with pain at the marvel of the bravery he’d shown compared to his own cowardice—but he didn’t deserve this.

Wasting no time, Even wrapped his body around Isak, hands cupped his still face gingerly. He looked lifeless and the fear that rose in Even had to be quashed as quickly as it spawned. He needed to focus. Closing his eyes, he felt tentatively at the bond, it was still there although feeble and thin. There was a spark, but Even had never done what he now needed to do.

Pulling Isak’s face towards his own, Even saw his eyes try to flutter open, but they were too weak. Their lips met, the soft and stillness of their bodies was a conflict on the background of the storm raging around them; a bubble of calm enveloped them, the universe assisting in the small way that it could.

Even parted his lips and blew gently into Isak’s mouth: air, life and energy. Pulling back, he gazed down at the body cradled in his arms. It _looked_ hopeless but he could feel that spark being fanned. Bringing him close again, he pushed his mouth against Isak’s once more, blowing more life into him. This time, Even felt arms grip to him as Isak stirred and his strength was kindled.

Relief flooded into Even as green eyes opened, and a weary smile curved Isak’s perfect mouth. He needed to get them back up to the cavern, it was sheltered there and they both could recover. However, he couldn’t move from this moment because Isak had come for him and he was alive and within his arms—safe and sound. But he also found that he couldn’t stir because lethargy was settling on him fast.

Isak moved his mouth as if to speak, his face still drained by the near fatal experience and Even shook his head, placing a finger tenderly over his lips. It looked like Isak was laughing, as much as a human could underwater, before fingers were in Even’s hair, pulling his mouth towards his again. Isak took another breath from his lips, but kept their foreheads pressed together. Closing his eyes, Even let himself be warmed by the intimacy he’d been dead without. His strength was melting away but it was OK; they were together.

_You’re not alone._

Even’s eyes shot open as he stared at Isak, shocked at the voice that had been as clear as if it was spoken within his head. It _was_ Isak’s voice that played there. He blinked before grinning at Even, seeming to understand what had happened.

_Can you hear me, too?_

Isak nodded before Even heard the simple reply.

_Yes._

And then Even was holding him, as tight as he could manage with the last of his strength, hands searching Isak to see if there was any damage he needed to attend to. He was not alone, far from it if Isak lived within his thoughts like this. Never alone.

_I’m fine, Even._

He could almost laugh himself at the exasperation clear in the words that were private to him alone.

_Are you sure?_

_Yes. Let’s go up._ Isak pulled back to peer into Even’s eyes whilst brandishing a hand at him, wiggling his fingers. _I’ll get all wrinkly._

Even grinned back before his sight began to fade, and he saw Isak frown at him. Blinking he tried to stave off the exhaustion but it rolled over him unstoppably. The world went dark but Isak’s embrace was there, he had him.

* * *

Isak was surprised at the calm that remained in him as Even’s eyes closed and his body went lax. Irrationally, or perhaps selfishly, he resented the fact that the powerful tail that had held him as tight as Even’s arms was now relaxed. That embrace was his belonging.

Within a heartbeat he took Even in his arms, returning the favour. Somehow he understood; Even had given Isak what he needed to survive, to take them both from the sea, in whatever potent energy came from his lips. They were saving one another, and it was too obvious a metaphor that without the other, neither would survive—here or anywhere else.

His hands slid over Even’s skin, finding adequate purchase. The flesh and scales that passed beneath his palms didn't feel strange, it felt astounding to touch Even in this form—to know every wonderful part of him. But there would be time to marvel later, just as there would be time to worry. Would Even just get better? Was he simply tired? Would Isak know what to do passed getting them safely on land? The panic was kept at bay by the life that he felt in the bond; subdued, but it was there.

Looking to the surface above them, he knew he needed to move quickly. Whatever strength he had didn't make him immortal, he would still need to breathe.

Kicking his feet out, he aimed towards the heavens. It was hard work, the free arm that wasn't wrapped securely around Even, pressing him tightly to Isak’s chest, tried to assist. Slowly they moved up through the currents.

It seemed like they weren't moving fast enough, inch by inch, the distance closed so slowly Isak was convinced at times they weren't moving at all. And yet still, the worry was not present in him.

Logic screamed at him that he needed air, and that his lungs were spent and they weren't close enough to oxygen. Even was _much_ too heavy and he didn't have enough power to save them both.

Instinct absorbed those fears, because somehow Isak knew that it was going to be OK. They were going to make it, that instinct overshadowed every other sense. He trusted in whatever the world was trying to reassure him of.

But as his arm shot feebly through the water again and Even began to slip from him, Isak frowned at himself. Was it delusion? Was he just mad on hope? Survival didn't seem likely based upon the facts he could see.

He managed to look down at Even, perhaps there was one last spark of energy he had yet to give. But as his eyes found him, all he saw was a being in perfect and deep slumber, uncaring of their predicament.

A heartbeat of distress thundered through him before _something_ happened. A bar of strength wrapped around his waist and Isak didn't have time to acknowledge surprise or shock before he was travelling through the water at an unbelievable pace.

Air and wind greeted him, more welcome than any other experience, barring—of course—Even’s lips on his. Isak could do anything as long as he had those kisses. Did he do that? Had he saved them with some power he didn’t know he possessed?

He had time to hastily fill his lungs before he realised the thing that held onto him him had not let go. Looking down into the water sloshing around them, still clutching to Even with a fierce possessiveness, he saw arms as thick as oak branches wrapped around them both.

“You looked like you needed help.” It was a gruff voice that came from behind—a voice Isak had never heard before. But before he could question whatever this force was, they were plunged back under the surface and shot through the water at that same incredible speed.

Isak hoped that—whoever, or whatever, this being was—they would at least take them all to a place of safety.

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I WONDER WHO THIS IS?! *smirk*


	13. Revivals and Reunions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How long can you hold your breath underwater?”
> 
> He blinked, taken back by the sudden question. “I'd say I'm more or less an expert by now.” Isak replied, apparently not too shocked to make a stuttered quip.
> 
> Blue and amber held him alike before a deep laugh boomed from his chest, rivalling the thunder that had retreated to the horizon. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Have a chapter!
> 
> And yes... I'm suffering from Oslo hangover... I'm in love. 
> 
> Enjoy,  
> Becs

Isak was thrown clear of the water and out onto the rocks that sat at the neck of the inlet. All he could do was scramble onto his hands and knees, whilst sputtering out the small amount of sea he’d managed to take into his lungs on the short but rapid journey.

After the third harsh breath was pulled into him, he turned towards that unknown force with only one concern.

“Even.” he managed to push from his throat in an urgent plea. But he couldn't have been prepared for what he saw; after everything he'd learnt so far, Isak scolded himself for the surprised he felt. Anything was possible, apparently.

What looked like a man had one hand grasping a rock and an arm cradled Even. At first all Isak could see was Even, whose eyes were shut and his chest rose and fell— _that_ was the important thing. Isak knew he was fine, he just needed to see it. He looked so peaceful, sunlight was cutting through the clouds as the storm moved offshore and it cast a light down on him. He was nothing short of beautiful, from the parts of him intimately known to Isak right down to his incredible and elegant tail—new to his eyes this close, every single detail of each scale was breath-taking.

Then he took in the man who held him. He was no ordinary man, his hand was easily bigger than both of Isak’s combined. He'd never seen a more impressive being: strong and broad with a beard that trailed down his chest and his hair was as long and white, streaming down his back.

As the water swayed around him, Isak could see iridescent scales: a royal blue, flecked with amber. The sight of him holding Even so easily was like something from an ancient myth and Isak was left speechless. And his mute state wasn't helped when he caught a glimpse of the beings eyes: one blue as calm summer seas and the other a fiery amber. Hot and cold—a contrast brought together. It poked at something in Isak’s memories but for the life of him he couldn't grapple a simple sentence let alone a cohesive thought.

“ _Pups!”_ The word was not said unkindly but there was a certain amount of exasperation there.

Before Isak could work moisture into his mouth and perhaps respond with something, the merman went on.

“I _think_ they are called children. We've spent too long under water.” The stern expression broke into a grin at his own sarcastic remark.

Isak frowned, was he mad? He seemed to be speaking to himself—he certainly wasn't speaking to Isak. But those eyes landed on him before the being’s sanity could be questioned any further.

“Are you hurt?”

Isak shook his head. Stunned, shocked, overwhelmed—yes, but he wasn't hurt. “I'm OK. But is _he_ OK. I can feel him but I can't hear him.” His panic was rising as he focussed on Even again. Their voices had only just appeared in the other’s mind but already it felt like Isak couldn't live without that voice living in his skull.

One large hand reached out to touch his shoulder reassuringly and, as it did, a calm washed over Isak. It was the same feeling he’d received when Even had bandaged his foot. Was that some kind of power?

“He's going to be OK. He's just exhausted.” His eyes cast down upon Even’s tranquil face before a surge of sorrow washed over the beings features. “You've been through a lot, haven't you?” His voice was quiet, speaking to the form he cradled as tenderly as if he were a new-born.

Isak shifted forward, any fear he'd normally have of this godlike creature was overshadowed by his need to be near Even. Reaching out, he took hold of his hand; it looked limp to his eyes but as soon as Isak laced his fingers through Even’s, there was strength in the grip that held him back, despite eyes that remaining closed and the slow hypnotic rhythm of unconscious breath that moves his chest.

“I was supposed to save him.” Isak whispered, this didn't seem like the rescue he'd wanted, despite doubting any victory was possible at one point when he was submerged in the bleak currents of the abyss. He supposed he should be more grateful, but Even deserved more than this.

“You did.” The merman said. “And you'll get more opportunities to care for him, he needs you now.” Even would need him? How? What could _Isak_ do?

His broad palm swept hair back from Even’s forehead gently before a question paused his motion. “What's your name?”

“Isak.”

He nodded, and then hesitated, that already seemed an odd thing for this being to do. “And what is his name?”

Isak’s heart thudded in his chest, there's was a deep current of emotion that swelled in the simple question; regret and sorrow.

“Even.” he answered, as reverently as he could and still be heard above the roar of the sea. The waters were calming, but they still battered against the cliffs and rocks alike.

He nodded, smiling deeply at Isak’s words. “Even.” he repeated, with just as much awe in his voice as was present in his gaze, “He looks just like her.” he added, the words softer still as if said to himself.

Isak looked at the merman’s face in scrutiny. Who was he? And who did Even look like? Had he known Mischa? But before he could probe where he probably shouldn't, he turned back to Isak, complete focus in his gaze.

“How long can you hold your breath underwater?”

He blinked, taken back by the sudden question. “I'd say I'm more or less an expert by now.” Isak replied, apparently not too shocked to make a stuttered quip.

Blue and amber held him alike before a deep laugh boomed from his chest, rivalling the thunder that had retreated to the horizon. “Good.” He held his hand out towards Isak now. “Come. Have you been through the secret tunnel before?”

“No.” The tunnel? The one that led to the cove? There couldn't be another, could there? And how did he know about it? “Even said he'd show me it, when it was warmer.” That conversation seemed an age ago now, before he’d cut his foot and needed to be saved—well, Even had insisted that he needed to be saved.

“We'll have to make do with the weather as it is. Ready?”

Isak shuffled along the flat, wet plane of rock towards the being. The whole scenario might have been wholly shocking, but Isak also felt safety in his presence; he trusted him, and trust didn't come easily to Isak.

“Ready.” he replied, perched on the edge with his feet dangling in the water, waves splashing against his knees and spraying his chest.

A thick arm wrapped around him once more and Isak couldn't help the yelp that was pushed from him as the firm hold secured him. He had enough time to suck in a lungful of air before they were plunged down into the water again.

And then he was surging through the sea, too fast to make out anything other than deeper shades of blue below them. It was an exhilarating feeling, and Isak would probably enjoy the sensation of flying if he wasn't so concerned about Even. Knowing now what he was and some of his capabilities, one of which was breathing underwater, he was still anxious at the sight of him unconscious and submerged as he was.

Without warning, they burst through the surface and Isak was able to gasp more air before he realised they were at the cliff face now.

“Once more.” the being announced.

Isak had no time to nod before they descended again, deeper than before. As his eyes adjusted, he saw they’d come to part of the cliff that jutted out like a roof and below it, he could make out a surface; crystals in the rock seemed to catch the light and made the area glow. Then the dark mouth of a tunnel was before them only moments before they were swept inside. The light dwindled until it was pitch black, and the only sensation—apart from the arm around him and the water that rushed past him—was the feeling of seaweed and plants brushing against his skin.

His lungs began to complain just as light started to appear, slowly at first and then a sudden golden glow filled the space around them before they reached the surface.

Isak gasped noisily for air, but he'd made it; he'd make sure to tell Even when he woke. And the pride he felt in himself dissipated in his worry once again. He was released as he felt sand underfoot and waded towards the softer, dry sand that carpeted the part of the cove that wasn't water. Warmth and light; just like last time, it _was_ magical.

“He did better than your first time through, do you remember?” Isak was focussed on staggering from the water—his legs shaky beneath him—but it was evident the merman was talking to himself again. “I didn't realise it was a competition, besides he's younger than I was then.” The tone bristled with singed honour whilst—in contrast— was followed by a snicker of amusement.

He turned back as the being was pulling himself through the shallows to lay Even gently on the sand, still grinning at his own confusing conversation that made absolutely no sense to Isak.

But he had no time to question it—if he even dared—as he scrambled over to push hair clear from Even’s too warm forehead. If only he could heal like Even could.

“What do I do?” he stammered, panic bubbling to the surface. Could he even be trusted with someone like Even? Pure and unique as was.

“You worry. _A lot_.” The voice from behind him said in gentle reprimand. “You said you hear him? Is it in your mind?”

Isak looked back at the merman. Could _he_ know what it was that had grown between himself and Even? And would he tell Isak what it was? “Yes.” he answered plainly, tilting his chin up a fraction; either in defence or dignity, he wasn’t sure.

The merman’s lips pulled up into a small knowing smile, despite the stern facade he tried to maintain—yes, he knew. “Then all you have to do is trust in your bond with him; it will give you everything you need.”

Isak continued to stare at him blankly. What did that even mean? “But what if he gets worse—”

“He won't, if you stay by his side. He needs _you_ and that's all.” He paused, looking at Isak thoughtfully. “Can you cook?”

He winced at the question. “That’s more Even’s territory.”

“It is?” And instead of the scorn he expected would be aimed at him, the being looked down at Even with pride.

“Yeah I've never tasted better food—even without meat.”

The smile the being wore was no longer private, it was beaming. “The apple didn't fall far from the tree it seems.” Those deceptively gentle fingers played over Even’s features, as the merman memorized his face.

“I'm sure there's something up there.” He looked up at the roof of the cove, to where the house stood on the cliff overhead. “I'll make sure he eats well.” Isak nodded to himself as if he'd uttered an oath. But he would look after him, as best as he humanly could.

“A simple vegetable broth will do. There might be recipe books in the kitchen.” he stated as if he knew it to be truth, still gazing at Even’s sleeping form.

Isak opened his mouth to say something and then closed it again. What did he say to… what he could only describe as a god of the sea? And he spoke with such authority, this was all _known_ to him—simple fact.

“Just keep him comfortable until he has energy. This isn't just a change, its recovery.”

Isak looked at him blankly. “A change?”

The being looked at him and frowned. “From merman to man. Have you seen his change before? He must have told you about it.”

Shaking his head, Isak felt the being’s disbelief dawn. “I—I only just found out. I saw him when—” he cut off, unable to go into the story of how he knew. He couldn't say it out loud, not yet. “We've never talked about it.” he added finally.

Compassion filled his eyes as Isak stuttered to a halt. “You've bonded without knowing?” When Isak nodded slowly just once, he simply tutted before looking inward, Isak would guess that the confounding two way conversation was playing out silently.

“What's bonding?” he had to ask, it was said with such reverence that he felt dumb for not knowing. But how could he know? This wasn’t his world.

The being let out a sigh. “It should come from him, but it will help you to know. Merfolk come on land from time to time,” he paused, that small knowing smile played on his lips again, “I'll leave that bit to Even.” Isak frowned but before he could pry at the apparently amusing omission, he went on. “Sometimes our visits are short and fleeting. Occasionally we fall in love. And even rarer still, we find our soul-bond: someone we are destined to complete, someone who makes life as full as it is supposed to be, someone who you cannot live without— together you become more than your individual mass apart.” And then he continued in a momentous tone. “You are his and he is yours.”

Isak’s jaw was hanging open. He'd only just managed to get his head around Even being this mythical creation. And this? But it made sense, it was why the colour had drained from the world while they were apart, why it hurt so much. Guilt crashed down on him anew.

“I left him… I left him when Mischa—when she went. He was alone, this is my fault.” His breath was becoming more rapid as he panicked through the realisation, the full multitude of what he'd done— from being stubborn; foolhardy.

The hand gripped his shoulder and the warm calm descended again. “Son, it's not your fault. You think you're the only person to run away scared?”

Mismatched eyes held his own, there was an understanding there of the pain, the separation and the hope and elation past reunion. _Son?_

“No… but _he_ never ran—”

“He did the opposite; he froze. And neither of you are in the wrong.” Another sigh left him as the being shook his head, both in fondness and exasperation of youth. “He should have told you though, that was unfair.” he muttered, giving Even such a look that said he would hear the same again later.

How did he know that Even froze? There were so many questions Isak didn't know where to start, but something spilled out of him that was unexpected.

“Are you staying?” Isak couldn't fathom the reason, but he wanted the being to stay. There was reassurance in his presence and knowledge, despite it still being completely and incredibly unbelievable that Isak was talking to this legend come to life—and that Even too was one of these beings.

“I will stay. I'm needed for now.” His hand brushed over Even’s scales, dry now and losing that iridescent quality as they dulled. One flaked away with the gentle touch, revealing a tiny patch of mottled skin beneath; it looked bruised and Isak couldn't help but let out a hiss of concern, placing a hand over the area tenderly.

“Is that supposed to happen?”

The merman laughed softly. “Yes it is. But it appears Even’s change is more rapid than my own is—or was. It's been a long time.” he said wistfully, but his focus resumed quickly. “You need to get him up to the house.” And his eyes turned to Isak now, full confidence in his ability to do just that.

“I'm not as strong as he is, I can't carry him.”

The being’s amusement never left him, it reminded him of how Even’s laughter would always lay close to the surface of his words—waiting for any and all excuse to break free. The memory of his laugh brought the first smile to Isak’s face in what felt like years.

“You'll be surprised what you can do now you're bonded as one.”

All Isak could do was nod. He had a wealth of confidence in Isak that was contagious. Looking at Even—calm and helpless—there was no other choice. He could do this.

A surprised grunt came from the merman, drawing Isak’s attention and concern. But the shock melted into a laugh as the being looked being him to find a dark shape was head-butting against his lower tail.

“ _Winston_.” he exclaimed fondly. Reaching back, his fingers stroked along the creatures back and Winston preened under the affection. “It seems you do live as long as you want.”

And now there were more questions, but there wasn't any time. A sweat had broken out across Even’s forehead and his face twisted in discomfort. Questions could wait.

Isak knelt beside Even, sliding one hand beneath his shoulders and the other beneath where his knees would be if there wasn't a tail in their place. Rolling Even into his arms, he placed one foot firmly on the floor and began to stand. In one fluid motion he was on his feet; he was carrying Even’s weight easily— _too_ easily. But whatever it was that fortified his strength, he wasn't going to scrutinise it. It was simply a blessing.

The being turned to him and nodded, pleased with what he saw. “I’ll be here if you need me.” His smile was reassuring.

Isak turned to leave but hesitated. “What—what’s your name?”

Looking at Isak, he cocked his head to one side and paused in thought. “I guess we’ll have to figure that out.” And Isak wasn’t sure what _we_ he meant by that. Either way, he simply nodded in return—like that was a sufficient answer—and made his way from the cove. Who was he to question a merman?

* * *

Isak sat down on the bed next to Even. By all rights he should be exhausted; he'd climbed the stairs to the cliff top, plodded through the house and somehow navigated himself straight to Even’s room.

Once he’d made sure Even was as comfortable as possible, he'd thrown some dry clothes on himself; the jeans that he left on when he’d jumped from the jetty were still soaked through and were clinging uncomfortably to his skin. Then he'd ran as fast as he could to the jetty, collecting the three pairs of clothes that had been left there. It had seemed important that he do that—his bike could wait.

Cutting through the kitchen, he'd grabbed some warm water and towels whilst quickly checking the supplies in the fridge; they would have no problem on the food front it seemed. There were plenty of fresh ingredients to do something with, the question was what. The carefully arranged recipe books didn't escape his exploration—they weren't store bought by the looks of it, someone had personally collated their favourite recipes. But he'd take a closer look later.

And that's how he ended up back at the bed, water on the side table and towels dropped at his feet. The whole exercise had probably taken less than ten minutes and he was still full of energy.

Turning to Even, he gently pulled the covers back to examine him. He looked pale as the fever was yet to break, and his eyes hadn't opened once. The only noise he'd made were sounds of contentment when Isak had cradled him to his chest.

Isak hummed a tune, trying to create a soothing atmosphere like Even did—for himself or Even, he wasn't sure—as he began to dab the sweat from Even’s face. His eyes scoured over every inch of the being within his care with a delicate love, just like his hands. And Isak was fine, tracing lithe muscles and limbs, until he reached Even’s waist where the skin became scales. Some of them flaked away with the towel and Isak couldn't help the part of him that recoiled in pain as part of Even was shed. Isak loved every fiber of him, it didn't matter how new or confounding it all was. It was a part of Even and therefore wonderful.

So, a part of him mourned as he cleaned the sand and grit that was still stuck to Even’s long and beautiful tail, watching as it change before his eyes. The fin split into two and withered in on itself, which then began to split into ten individual segments, all the while the colour pinkened. Then a dent appeared running the length of the muscle, Isak supposed where one limb would soon become two.

As he observed life unfolding and evolving, he continued to make Even as comfortable as possible. It must ache he supposed—the only thing he could compare it to was cramp. So, his hands sought out muscles that were defining into calves and his palms ran over them, massaging carefully. Most of the scales were gone now, laying like autumn leaves scattered on the floor and sheets.

But Isak still felt useless, surely there was more he could do for Even? And just as he was frowning down at his hands, doubt creeping over him and his ability to live up to what Even deserved, he heard his phone ring.

His phone? He'd completely forgotten that anything else could exist. Where had he put it? Shifting to the end of the bed, Isak carefully placed the slowly forming legs flat on the mattress before pulling the covers up and over Even, cocooning him in a way Isak desperately wanted to do with his own body. He could do that later, he decided with a sign. Now he had to look for his phone.

Three strides brought him to the three neat piles of clothes on the drawers. Picking up his jacket, Isak unzipped the pocket; it was lucky he'd put it there rather than his jeans.

It was Jess. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he pushed it to his ear. “Hi.”

“ _Isak, I've been calling and calling.”_ her voice was alarmed. Of course the last she saw of him, he'd sped from his own bedroom, leaving the note behind.

“Sorry… sorry.” he said, casting his eyes across to Even; he looked at ease, so Isak slipped from the room so he wouldn't disturb him.

“ _What happened, I've been going out of my mind. Is he with you? Is he OK?”_

_“_ Yes he's here and he's… gonna be OK.”

She let out a sigh, it sounded like she'd been holding her breath for hours. “ _God I'm so fucking relieved.”_ She hesitated before committing to words. “ _I know I shouldn't have but I was so worried… I read the note. And it was stupid because it only made me freak out more. It sounded like—”_

“I know. I know.” Isak cut in, he didn't want to be reminded of how close they'd both come to devastation. _“_ The point is he's OK and we're both gonna be fine.” He could hear her deliberate silently over whether to push further.

She exhaled, letting go of her questions and Isak relaxed, Jess trusted him to handle this. Everyone had so much faith in him. _“Is there anything I can do?”_

Isak frowned. “I don't think so. All I can do is be here… and try and make something for him to eat.”

Jess snorted. It was a relief to hear some levity. _“You? Cook?”_

“Yeah, yeah. It's hilarious.” He replied dryly.    

_“No, you'll be fine Isak. You know what to make?”_

Isak scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Maybe vegetable broth.”

“ _That's fairly easy, just taste as you season. Sweat the onions and the vegetables, just add water and seasoning.._.”

Isak nodded along with his words, committing them to memory. “That sounds doable.”

Jess paused. Isak could imagine her wearing that diplomatic expression where she was forming a proposal that needed to be received in the best way possible. _“Just—you know—if there's a cookbook, they probably have a recipe. Follow that.”_

So the faith only extended so far, he grinned. He was still only human. “I think there are some. I'll look.”

_“Good.”_ she said, seemingly content. _“I better let you get back—”_

“Jess,” he butted in urgently, needing some reassurance because he _was_ only human. Whatever the merman had said about the bond and abilities, he still didn't understand it all. He still didn't feel worthy to care for Even. But how did he even express that to Jess? It wasn’t like he could be candid. “I just…,” he trailed off, not even competent enough to pull the right words together.

Jess huffed a small laugh, but she knew him. _“Isak, you’ll be fine.”_ She sighed before continuing, it sounded like a hug. _“I don’t know what’s happened, and I’m not asking. But you two together, it’s a special thing. I can’t put my finger on it but I know he’s safe with you. And you with him, OK?”_

“I guess.” he murmured.

_“What’s that thing you always tell me to do? You know, when I have a panic attack.”_

Isak smiled to himself as he wandered down the hall. “Just focus on the next breath.”

_“You know, that always helps me. But instead of breathing, you just focus on the next minute, OK?”_

He thought about it for a moment. That could work. “Minute by minute.”

_“That’s it. It’ll get easier.”_ And he could almost feel her smile, despite her being far away. _“You go cook your man some comfort food, OK?”_

“I’ll keep you updated, and let you know when I’m back.”

_“Don’t worry too much — if there’s anything urgent this end, I’ll call.”_

“Thank you, Jess.”

_“What are big sisters for? And you can just pay me back with these new cooking skills you’re gonna acquire.”_ She snorted again.

“You’re going out of your comfort zone there, but I’ll try not to poison you.” he jibed.

_“Well whatever you do, don’t poison Even. I like him.”_

“Me too.” Isak murmured.

_“No you don’t.”_

“What?”

_“You love him.”_ And she dragged the word out to tease him.

Isak felt heat in his cheeks, but he firmed his jaw. It wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. “I can’t think of anyone on this planet I’d rather lose my heart to.” Or soul, or life. He would give them all up for Even. Without him, Isak wouldn’t have any of those things anyway, he knew that now.

_“That’s so cute,”_ she awed, _“but I’m gonna go before I get nauseous.”_

Grunting a laugh, Isak shook his head. At least he’d turned it around on her. “I’ll speak to you soon.”

_“OK, bye.”_

“Bye.”

Hanging up, Isak stared at the phone for a moment; confidence had returned to him again in a tidal wave.

Taking a deep breath, he straightened himself, he’d check on Even and then get started on food. But before he made his way back to the bedroom where Even lay, something caught his eye. It was one of the family pictures, framed and hung on the wall. Narrowing his eyes, Isak took in the details.

Two men and two little girls, one child perched on each lap and there was that dog again that looked so much like Applesauce. They looked happy, all five individuals were grinning as they sat on the patio benches out on the cliff. The sky was blue and the sun was shining. Happy, blissful days. He knew their faces already: Mischa, Abigail and Even’s grandparents, all of them absent now. The thought brought sorrow to Isak, but he knew that they—Even and himself—would be all that they needed— _and_ the animals, of course.

Before he pulled his gaze away, something made him look closer: the eyes. One man had eyes of fiery amber and the other deep blue like the summer sea. A contrast; and it was a contrast he’d already seen today.

* * *

 


	14. No More Darkened Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So,” he said quietly so as not to disturb the stillness, “I guess you know everything.” And Even knew that wasn’t the case but he wanted to tease out how much Isak knew before he got to the root of where this knowledge had come from.
> 
> Shifting around, Isak stared up at him before shaking his head. “You know I don't.”
> 
> “What do you want to know?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, it's been a wild few weeks here. But I'm also dragging my feet because I don't really want to say goodbye - that and there's too much for two chapters so I've extended it to two more after this. 
> 
> But I'm nervous as fuck about this chapter because "new shit has come to light, man" and I hope you guys like where I take this. But I'm still mostly freaking out... 
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3 love, Becs

At first, the only thing Even could sense was a blinding light when he tried to open his eyes. But the sensation that came second was overwhelming with the comfort it brought; Isak’s heart was beating next to his, their arms and legs tangled together in a complex embrace. A breath was released, running across Even’s shoulder and he  _ knew  _ they were safe, alive, and together.

Pushing his nose into the soft hair brushing against his cheek, he couldn't help the need to let Isak into him in any conceivable way: smell, touch and taste. Aside from the familiar scents of his home and Isak, there was something else—a slight charing like food had been burned on the stove. Had Isak been cooking? But the thought was derailed when the firm grip encircling him tightened.

“Hey.” he murmured softly into Even’s neck. There was a multitude of emotions that lay beneath Isak’s words: relief, concern, worry, guilt… the list went on, and he quickly realised that those same feelings were woven through himself.

Before they could take hold, Even imagined a blanket of golden warmth, and—without realising what he was doing—he wrapped it around them both in his mind, shielding them from pain and smothering fear. It was only when Isak let out a sigh of contentment did he realise it’d actually had an effect.

“I don't think I've ever been so happy to wake up.” He smiled the words, eyes now opening to the room— _ his _ room. Sun was streaming in through the windows and the view was a glorious blue; it seemed years since he'd seen the sky clear like this. The gentle hum of the ocean made its ever present din, it was the perfect calm after the storm they’d survived.

Everything was as it should be in his room: clean and neutral, a few framed photos, a collection of unusual rocks and shells dotted around and a beaten up old dog bed—for those nights Applesauce and perhaps a few of the other dogs felt they needed company. 

There were additions to the array now: three neat piles of clothes sat on top of his drawers—he didn't even have to examine them closely to know whose they'd be—and a tray was on his bedside table holding a cloth covered bowl, a tall glass of water and a tumbler of orange juice. The condensation was still sparkling on the glass.

Those observations took two heartbeats before his attention was back on the being by his side. Isak had cooked for him, saved him and cared for him—it left Even feeling undeserving. He'd put them both at risk because he couldn't see past his own grief. That layer of protection he'd woven began to weaken under the weight of his conscious thought. But before he could make sense of his feelings enough to word an apology that would undoubtedly fail to recompense for his actions, Isak was pressed to his chest and frowning down at him.

“Don’t you dare.” It was a command that Even couldn’t mistake. The ferocity in Isak’s words put every notion swirling through him on pause.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence and peering up wearing a soft smile that he couldn’t help but provide when Isak was anywhere near him.

But it didn’t melt the serious bent of Isak’s mind. “ _ You _ . Don’t you dare feel guilty. I won’t let you.”

Even didn’t doubt him—that Isak would use anything in his power to stop any blame being owned. And suddenly reality crashed down on him: the small measure of bliss and the hefty weight of pain from the past week—and yet both extremes seemed an equal balance. They’d been inches from destruction, but Isak had been so brave. The afterimage of him floating in the bleak ocean almost lifeless was still burned behind Even’s eyes whenever he closed them. His mum was gone and that void was ever present, but they were together, Isak knew now—at least he knew a part of it.

His hands were holding on to Isak’s face without realising he’d reached out. The severe mood cut straight into him, if he said the words that longed to emerge from his mouth, Isak would only become more vehement in his defence of Even’s honour.

_ I’m sorry. _

And so he thought it instead. His fingers were combing through Isak’s hair, he knew he’d been heard. Isak froze, all except his eyes that scoured Even’s face intently and his chin that quivered, caught between scolding Even and absolving him.

“I’m sorry, too.” he replied finally, out loud so the world could hear him.

A warm tear streaked from the corner of Even’s eye, running into his hair as he lay still and looked up at Isak. Blinking, its twin materialised and there were more to come, he knew. Closing his eyes, he tried to push them away—banish this sorrow so he could smile for Isak, so he wouldn’t make him sad.

_ And you can stop that as well. _

There was no escaping him, not that Even would ever want to. The words in his head were as firm as the look was that he knew would be aimed at him; daring to gaze up at Isak, he proved his hypothesis. A smile pulled at Even’s lips, but the gesture made the crack that his tears escaped through become a chasm. He couldn’t deny Isak or himself the emotions that needed to be acknowledged, not after this week where they’d both been as good as dead to the world.

Tears were running down Isak’s cheeks too and Even resisted the need to take ownership of them. Instead he let them fall, baptising his skin in this new life that they had with each other.

“I think,” Isak began, the pad of his thumb tenderly swiping away another of Even’s tears that had broken free, “you’ve spent so long feeling for others, and I’ve not known who I was to know how I felt about  _ anything _ . But now that we know, we should feel—feel what  _ we  _ feel.”

“What we feel.” he repeated in a hoarse whisper.

Isak nodded his agreement because Even knew the lump that was there in his throat was blocking any words. He knew because that same sensation gripped his own throat unrelentingly.

_ It’s OK. _

Isak’s voice in his skull brimmed with compassion, love and comfort whilst still carrying the grief that needed to be shed. Tears came faster now, easy and slow like a mountain stream. Then he edged forward, lips pushing to Even’s skin to follow the tracks his tears had made, kissing them away whilst his own joined them; streams merging together to form a unified body of water—to flow as one.

Lips continued their voyage along Even’s jaw until a light kiss ghosted at the corner of his mouth. He inhaled Isak’s exhale before their lips met. The last time they'd kissed it had been a dire need, but Even decided—then and there, as he reacquainted himself with the taste of Isak and the soft and smooth of his mouth— that his life would always depend on these kisses.

His palms felt sparks ignite as they ran over Isak, this euphoric friction that occurred only between their bodies was beyond any comprehension. Nowhere else in this world would this chemistry be found. There was nothing separating them, Isak had lain down as bare as Even was; there was a peace to be found like this—nothing hidden, but there were still things to be explained.

Even tried to focus on that need to be transparent, but it was hard to postpone his desire to re-acquaint himself with every facet of Isak. Luckily, one of his facets was logic.

It was only when he felt Isak’s chest move beneath him in a low laugh that Even realised he'd rolled them and was kissing down Isak’s throat, hands greedy in their need to roam and claim were already tracing muscles.

“ _ Baby _ ,” Isak’s voice almost sang the word, “you need to rest—and eat.” But his own fingertips made delicate patterns down Even’s back that didn’t exactly help the scenario.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Even grinned down at Isak. “Merfolk are hardy beings.” Even flexed his feet, reminding himself of how incredibly light he felt that, not only did Isak  _ know,  _ but he'd seen him, every part and his metamorphosis. He'd seen everything and was still here, loving Even as fiercely as before—if not more so.

Isak just smirked back at him. “Well, I just saved this merman’s ass— _ or _ tail—and I would feel a lot better if you'd eat and rest.” He chewed his lower lip, and Even already knew he was questioning his own advice. But he was right, and Even probably needed to explain some things before they got lost in each other.

“OK.” he conceded. Rolling to his side, Even pushed the numerous soft pillows against the headboard so they could sit up in bed. As they settled, side by side, he reached for the tray to lay it over his lap, but before he could do much more than that, Isak pulled it over to his side. Removing the cover, he felt at the bowl to make sure it was still warm and—once he was done with the quality control—a spoon was in his hand, stirring the contents before it was moving toward Even’s mouth.

“You're gonna feed me?” And he was lucky to finish his sentence as the spoon punctuated his words like a full stop by ending up in his mouth.

“Humour me.” Isak murmured absentmindedly, Even could feel the strength of his determination—there was no point in fighting him over it, even if Even had wanted to.

He tried to disguise the surprised sound that was hummed as he absorbed the taste and flavours of the soup. Vegetable broth? Where would he have gotten that idea? And it was  _ good _ .

Isak didn't miss it and he cocked an eyebrow at Even. “What? You didn't think I could cook?”

“It's not that I didn't think you could… I've just never seen you try.” He grinned at Isak, hoping that it wouldn't be taken as an offense. “Besides… if you can cook, what am I bringing to the table?” Even laughed before another spoonful was offered in what might seem a forceful manner; Isak didn't seem to find the statement funny.

“You? The mythical being? What do you bring except joy and peace and laughter and love and healing…,” Isak trailed off, a satisfied smirk on his face as he guided more soup to Even, gentler now. “Anyway,” he added quietly, “I really hate cooking. This took three attempts.” He snickered, shaking his head at himself.

“Third time lucky.” Even put in gently, pride swelling within at Isak’s perseverance.

A severe look was aimed back. “It's only soup. And soup made from your grandad’s recipe, so I didn't do anything but follow some  _ extremely  _ clear and precise instructions.” And it was true, the recipes were more like science experiments, and you couldn’t help but read scorn in the words faded by years if you dared to make a misstep.

“Well, it's better than any I've ever tasted.” He grinned at Isak who tried to look unperturbed by the flattery, but he couldn't hide the blush that crept over his skin.

Clearing his throat, Even knew Isak was looking to steer the topic away from something he was obviously insecure about but was also taking very seriously. “So, which one of your grandparents was human?”

Even almost choked on a mouthful of orange juice. How had Isak worked that out? “How did you figure that out?”

“Well,” Isak moved the tray back to the bedside table, the soup bowl was already less than half full, “It just made sense I guess. Otherwise why would you live on land? And I guess your dad was human, too?”

Even nodded slowly. He thought maybe this topic could be eased into but here they were, jumping in feet first. “The taller one was human, with the lighter hair and—”

“Amber eyes.” Isak finished for him. Even frowned, obviously he'd been thinking about this for a while. What did he know?

“Yeah,” He took a deep breath, hoping the explanation would come easily. “They were soulbound, like us, which means—”

“They were destined for each other, and wouldn't survive without the other once they'd found completion?” All Even could do was nod again. How could he know this? 

Isak flashed him a shrewd smile in response to his internal questioning. “I'll tell you how I know later.” he added, but a frown disrupted his thoughts as whatever Even had said sunk in. “Your mum and dad were bonded?”

“They were.”

And he placed a hand over his heart while he stared hopelessly into space, empathy searing through him at the realisation so severe that it burned Even despite the emotion being second hand. “She lived like that.” he murmured, the words were soft but Isak was imagining that week of agony stretched out into many long years. It was a torturous thought on its own, Even would freely admit.

Reaching out, he found Isak’s hand and held it firmly. That wouldn't be their fate. “She did, somehow.”

A small smile broke through Isak’s mournful thoughts as he looked at Even. “She loved you very much.”

“She did.” That was the best he could respond with. It was true, for all those years he'd seen her as cold, the love she’d had for him must have been incredible to keep her sane and alive.

Suddenly the glass he was holding was gone, placed on the table by Isak’s sure hand before his soul mate was wrapped around him. He wasn't surprised when he felt the tears fall again, or the sensation of Isak’s body shudder against his as they wept. And it wasn't simply for this last week, nor the passing of Mischa, but for the years they'd lived without one another—lacking this security and belonging in the world, a place they were known and a place they could feel for one another. But they had it now, and some of the tears were shed in relief at the knowledge of what they had—and what they wouldn't lose again.

Even wasn't sure how long they held each other, recovering from trauma in this tender way. This was everything he’d ever need to heal: Isak and his heartbeat. Soon he found his fingers combing through Isak’s hair as they both began to breathe lightly, sighs of calm and relaxation echoing from the walls.

“So,” he said quietly so as not to disturb the stillness, “I guess you know everything.” And Even knew that wasn’t the case but he wanted to tease out how much Isak knew before he got to the root of where this knowledge had come from.

Shifting around, Isak stared up at him before shaking his head. “You know I don't.”

“What do you want to know?”

Isak chewed his lip, Even would guess he was ordering his questions by relevance. “First,” And he couldn’t help but smile as Isak began, focussed in his examination, “what was the nickname you gave me? You never said.”

Even had almost forgotten about that, the moment he’d almost opened up. How much easier would this all have been if he’d followed his instincts then—and they hadn’t been disturbed? He could remember distinctly how open Isak had been to him in that moment. But there was no point in regretting the paths chosen, what mattered was they’d arrived at the destination.

“Sometimes, I get glimpses of people—just something which shows an important part of their life, maybe it’s yet to happen or it happened already.” He shrugged before attempting to explain as fully as he could, it was far from an exact science that he barely understood himself. “It’s usually a handful of words or an image and mostly I don’t understand it unless I know them long enough to see it  _ happen _ . It’s like seeing a glimpse of their life fabric at some point—a pivotal thing or moment.”

“So,” Isak asked impatience snagging his words, “what was mine?”

“Just some words, I didn’t understand them then: the boy who couldn’t hold his breath underwater. And that’s what I’d call you in my head when you came—before we met. I guess we know what it means now.”

Isak’s grin was instant and Even felt his satisfaction flow between them. “Well, you’d be wrong because I  _ did  _ manage to hold my breath underwater: I went through the tunnel.”

“You did?” Even was half pleased, half proud and half confused. The quantities didn’t add up but they didn’t need to when two bodies were feeling so many things in tandem. “How?” He didn’t doubt Isak but that seemed an impossible task, to ferry them both through that long and dark tunnel—finding it in the first place would have been hard enough.

“I’ll tell you later: I’m not done with my questions yet, and it’ll probably be a long story—one that I’ll have to show rather than tell.”

Brows drawing together, Even studied Isak curiously. Despite the pique in his intrigue, he conceded to Isak’s wishes—he owed him all the answers. “OK, next question then.”

There was no hesitation now. “What do merfolk come on land for?”

Even gathered himself, eyes looking to the ceiling, and the heavens beyond, to prepare himself for this explanation—one he’d never had to tell anyone. But how was Isak so succinct in his questioning? “Well, we are in the world as a neutral force, to help. When we’re in the sea our bodies filter impurities, we cleanse the area we inhabit until it is time to move on. We recognise that chaos is a part of the universe and we don’t necessarily take sides in good and evil—if good and evil are even a real concept—but we help maintain a balance. Rescuing animals, nursing them back to health...” He knew he was rambling, but how did you begin to explain your existence?

“So, you come on land to keep the balance here too?”

Tilting his head to one side, he considered the question—it wasn’t incorrect. “Yes and no. While we’re here that  _ is  _ what we do, but our tie to the land is more essential than that. Merfolk can’t create life between ourselves, it’s something we need humans for.”

Isak’s jaw dropped as the realisation of Even statement passed over his features. “ _ You come on land to reproduce? _ ” Even nodded, grinning as Isak stared at him with wide eyes, but he knew the information would spawn several separate tangents in his mind. “Do they know?—The humans.”

“Typically, no. When it happens there usually isn’t a bond involved, and so the secret is kept until the merman or mermaid returns to the sea—it’s a basic act of nature. But when a bond is involved, it’s impossible to keep it a secret—and we wouldn’t want to either.” It sounded a lot more complicated when it was spoken aloud, but to Even it was just how things were—accepted before he could talk.

“But I thought bonds were rare? Us, your parents and your grandparents were all bonded...” Isak trailed off, bringing his own words forward to create more questions. How did Isak know they were rare?

“They are. I’ve thought about it a lot, perhaps the world needs more of our presence on land—it’s the only conclusion I have for why the world would find this a necessity. Not that I’m complaining.” He bent forward to kiss Isak’s forehead, but he was lost in this deluge of new information.

“And so…,” he was frowning again, grappling with something, “your paternal grandparent is the merman—with dark hair? But you look so much like the other. And why would two men have a bond, like us? What does nature get from it?” Isak’s questions were more his thoughts out loud, unable to contain them within his skull anymore—the inconsistencies and unknowns that he needed to verify and obtain.

They had reached the part that Even knew was coming—the part that would need a delicate explanation. “They are both my grandparents, maternal or paternal; they created the life that is my aunt and mum.” But before Isak could counter that with more questions, Even continued. “Where reproduction is required, nature models us to what humans expect and desire  _ generally _ . But when a bond is needed, the only thing nature is concerned with is the two souls that will make each other whole—gender nor sex is a factor, everything else can be adapted.”

Isak stared at him dumbfounded, and Even was unsure whether he needed to make it any clearer until Isak managed to find a response. “Like the frogs?”

Laughter broke free from Even’s chest at the analogy, but it was as close to the truth as anything could be. “I guess so, we change from one form to the next relatively easily; for us to evolve the organs needed to carry children is not that much more to ask of our bodies—if children are what nature wants from a bonded pair.”

Isak rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “Jesus Christ.” he muttered, stunned by what he was hearing. But it must sound absurd, on top of everything else he’d already learned this week. Even could feel that he wasn’t disturbed by it all; it was a shock that kept setting off separate other explosions of revelations in his mind.

Wrapping an arm around Isak, Even snuggled in close to him. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of the way Isak’s body would melt against his own.

“It's a lot, I know.” Even admitted, he wasn't sure how long it would take for Isak to get his head around it, and what life had planned for them both, but he would be patient, he'd be whatever Isak needed.

“No, it's just incredible what you can do— _ all _ the things you can do. It's… amazing. I—” the words cut off, lost in a sigh of what might have been exasperation. Even was near speechless as Isak’s perspective revealed itself to him, but it always surprised him how easily Isak loved him. All these issues Even had built up in his head were blown down with one mildly petulant sigh because Isak felt inadequate—which was ridiculous.

Even moved up and over Isak, filling his vision and gaining him a smile. “All the things you do are amazing to me, the way you admire me is the exact same way I admire you—every single part of you.” And the smile on Isak’s face sprawled as his soul felt the words, genuine and full of adoration.

Fingertips reached towards him, pushing back stray hair that had fallen forward and stroking it behind Even’s ear. Green eyes drank him in and he let Isak absorb him.

“So… what you're saying is one day we might be parents?”

Even turned into the hand that cupped his face to kiss Isak’s palm. “Only if that's what we want.”

“And they'd be like you?”

“They'd be like us both—the best of us both.” Even countered, dancing around Isak’s point.

“You know what I mean.”

Even grinned. “They would be merfolk.”

Isak mouthed more than said an exclamation of wonder that could have been a  _ wow _ . Even couldn’t resist stealing a kiss, delighting in taking his time about the soft press of their lips and making sure he’d thoroughly caressed Isak’s nose with his own. And the effect of his tender actions calmed Isak’s brain, which was working overtime to digest the truths.

“I’ve never really thought about kids…” But his vague tone said that Isak was certainly thinking about it now.

“Family can be anything we want it to be,” Even added, he didn’t want it to seem as though their destiny was already spelled out, it was their own to make—and the snort Isak made declared that he knew that. “Just us, or animals, or adoption, or whatever…” Even grinned. As long as they had each other, it would always be enough. “And of course your family, who I’d love to meet—soon.” Even frowned at the thought, both at the complications if he was to leave his family home and the notion resurfacing that he no longer had any living relatives present in his life.

Isak felt his thoughts, and stroked a thumb over Even’s cheek reassuringly. He attempted to say something but Even could feel all the safety and assurance he needed in Isak’s arms, Even just wanted to lose himself within his soul mate.

“Any more questions?” he whispered against Isak’s lips, but it wasn’t really a question; Even was letting him know that he desired the conversation to stop being played with words, and to dance to a more physical song.

Isak smirked back. “I wouldn’t say there’s no more questions, maybe none right now—” And that’s all Even needed to hear, sealing those words with a deep kiss. He could feel Isak melting beneath him, the issues he held on to almost dissipating entirely as Even moved his body against Isak’s with intent. But stubbornness was also one of Isak’s many facets.

_ Baby… _

_ Can’t it wait? _

_ Not really. _

_ Are you sure?  _ Even sent the words back as his hand gripped Isak’s thigh, that leg instinctively wrapped around Even’s waist. It would have to be something really important to put this off.

_ There’s someone you really need to meet. _

Reluctantly, Even left Isak’s mouth to look down at him—the flush in his face and those wide darkened eyes were almost enough to mute the urgency that Even had heard in Isak’s words. Who did he need to meet? Were they in the house? Had Isak told someone?

“Who?”


	15. Past and Future Designs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t think I’m like you,” he admitted, daring to meet the seemingly omniscient gaze that held him.
> 
> The merman frowned. “Like me, how?”
> 
> Even shrugged, grappling for the words. “You are… so sure. You know, you’ve always known what was best. That just isn’t a part of me, I doubt my instincts, I feel like I don’t know what I should. I put everything at risk because of the things I didn’t know, because of the bad choices I made.” He came to a stumbling halt, all of his insecurities flooding out of him to this ideal version of himself that he thought he should be, and that he thought he’d never be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I'm so sorry to have left you hanging. It was the summer and there are these two kids - who I have vague recollections emerging from my body - that are constantly at my house. They needed feeding and enetertaining... it was exhausting. So, I didn't feel in the headspace to write, not this AU anyway. But here we are... and here is another (rather long) chapter.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, the last installment won't be far behind. I promise. And then *cries in MerLanguage* I'll be lost. 
> 
> Love, Becs

It had been hard—there was no denying it—to peel himself from the safety of their bed, and Even’s room, and put their god damn clothes on. Especially since  _ he  _ had to do the persuading, Even had not been enthusiastic and that was an understatement.

All Isak wanted was their bodies entwined, and breath on his throat, fingers pulling at his hair and digging into his flesh—

“ _ Hey _ !” The yelp came from behind Isak as he set a foot on the top step of the wooden staircase that led down to the inlet. The hand he held tight tugged at him, bringing Isak’s physical attention swinging around as well as his mental focus. He found himself submerged in eyes as wide and blue as the ocean, half scandalized and half amused. “This was  _ your _ idea,” he huffed, his gaze unsure where to settle on Isak.

_ “ _ I know.” He frowned back, confused with what Even was getting at until he rolled his eyes and smirked. Then it clicked; he still wasn't used to this connection.

“So… keep your focus.” He moved towards Isak, and it was obvious his own mind had wandered all the way back to the bedroom. In truth, Isak was not far behind him. They could go back, maybe try to be quick—   

“ _ No _ .” he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from Even’s mouth.

“No? You won't keep your focus?” He was grinning and Isak rolled  _ his _ eyes now.

“You know what I mean—well, you know what I was  _ thinking _ . We have to do this now and then… and then.” He blinked, and looked back up to meet Even’s gaze. But now that he knew everything, it stopped his heart at every second moment. They belonged to each other. They had a life together, bound closer than he could ever have thought possible. His dire aspirations of life and loneliness, before he made the pilgrimage here—that very first time—were a complete contrast to the life he now welcomed and could practically see spread out before them both: when he looked up, when he saw him, when they touched. “Then I'm yours, forever.”

He remember the first time he'd seen the intense expression that Even sometimes wore, what seemed years ago, when he'd cut his foot. It had bordered on intimidating, but now it only stirred a heat in Isak. Because he knew it now as fierce desire, protection and love—the kind he’d thought couldn’t possibly exist, before they’d met. And he reflected it right back.

“Let's be quick then?”

Isak nodded absentmindedly because fingers were stroking through his hair. Quick might not be possible, but that was up to Even. He wasn't going to rush this for him, even if he had to knock himself out to stop his thoughts infecting Even’s focus.

“That won't be necessary.” Even’s voice was low and soft, it spoke to him like the wind that weaved through the trees and swirled and danced on the cliff tops. It brought life and change.

Isak hummed in confusion once the words resonated. “What?”

Even shook his head gently and a fond smile curved his lips. “You don't need to knock yourself out,” he chuckled before ducking his head to place a kiss on Isak’s cheek. “But I don’t know why you can’t tell me who it is.”

Isak could feel him, there was no irritation, simply a curiosity. If it was something to worry about, Even would have known already, he’d read it in Isak’s soul. “I don’t know where to start.” And it was the simple truth, because he had no idea how his hypothesis could be possible.

“Then let’s do this.” Even’s hand tightened around Isak’s as they took the steps side by side. Isak  _ was  _ nervous, excited as well, but he had no idea how this would impact Even. Focusing on his footing, he tried not to worry about the things he had no control over. They were together after all, this would be fine regardless of the minor pitfalls. Isak had his own questions, too, but they were not the priority right now.

They were passing through the tunnel and Isak mused silently that the last time they’d been down here—while both were conscious—Even had carried  _ him _ . The memory brought a small smile to his lips, it smoothed down the anxiety.

“I can do it again, you know.” Isak cast a look over at Even. He’d been frowning as they’d entered the crevice, and walked the passageway to the cavern, wondering who it would be for Isak to get them to wait  _ here,  _ of all places. But now Even was grinning mischievously at him and it was impossible not to smirk back. Maybe  _ he  _ wasn’t the one who had to keep his focus.

“Turns out  _ I  _ can do it, too.”

Even laughed softly, and Isak could feel pride as the reminder was made. “We should take it in turns then.”

“ _ Or _ we can save our energy for other things we can take turns at.” And Isak couldn’t help the smugness that settled on him as Even’s eyes narrowed on his mouth and his feet stopped, halting Isak with the grip he had on his hand, right at the threshold of the cavern.

“We’re gonna need practice to get better at this,” he stated, Isak couldn’t disagree; now they could hear each other, everything was much more acute. It was harder to focus on anything other than the other’s body, although maybe some of that was to do with the desire to reclaim one another physically. How much closer was it possible for them to get? Maybe they would find the answer now—in here.

Even’s brow creased as that thought filtered through to him, but right on cue there was motion at Even’s back and a dog barked welcome. Slowly, he turned to face the disturbance

* * *

Even didn’t know what to expect, but he hadn’t probed. He could tell Isak didn’t know where to begin, or if what he thought was correct. With all the revelations he was handling currently, Even was surprised that Isak could function at all. But even if he had been given longer to dissect this mystery, he was sure he wouldn’t have reached the conclusion before him. However, as soon as his eyes befell the being, he  _ knew _ . It was Isak’s turn to squeeze  _ his  _ hand in reassurance.

“It’s good to see you awake, Even,” the merman’s deep voice rumbled through the cavern like it was the sea itself, powerful and unstoppable.

He was larger than life, sprawled across the sandy floor whilst his tail undulated lazily in the shallows. Every single dog surrounded him in a tight circle, taking it in turns to lick at his face, or nose at a hand for attention. Winston swirled and darted through the water that deep blue fins occupied, waving gracefully with the gentle currents in this microcosm. But, as engaged with the creatures as he seemed to be, his eyes were on Even—one blue, one amber—and set in aged and wise face, laughter lines abundant and silver hair that spilled around his shoulders, with a long beard, of the same hue, plastered to his broad chest. 

Even had to remind himself to breathe. “You’re—” he began, not sure how this was possible. He’d always thought they were gone, lost to the sea in whichever way his kin left this plane of existence. But he fell short because what words did he use? Where did he start?

But the Merman helped, nodding slowly with a small smile on his face. He looked proud—no, he  _ felt  _ proud. Not in the way he used to feel others, but the way he would feel his mum. It was intimate, with a sense of past and history that had always reassured Even. It had been absent after Mischa left, but now he could feel it again.  

“I am,” he affirmed in a soft voice, “Your mother was our first born,  _ you  _ are our grandson.”

Grandson.  _ Our? _ “How? Where have you been? It’s been—” How long had it been? Even didn’t know. Questions crashed down on him like a wave as he sunk to his knees, unsure of how to feel and what to do. Isak was beside him, fingers laced through his. He would be OK, this would all be OK, no matter what. Isak was here.

“Many years,  _ we  _ don’t even know. We lost time together… it’s our nature.” But the words were tinged with remorse. Despite it being true—that was indeed their very nature, to be a moving part of the world and going where the need for them existed—they felt guilt. “We came when we felt Mischa leave.”

His eyes dropped to the golden sand in front of his knees at the mention of his mother’s name. “Why didn’t you come sooner?” The words were a whisper, but maybe it could have helped her. Maybe they had some secret to live in peace, as they had done, to pass on. A peace she could have found.

“We didn’t know until she simply wasn’t there anymore, but we couldn’t resist the pull that appeared at that moment lf loss, bringing us back here. We were meant to find you when we did.”

Isak moved closer to his side. “You were too tired to get us out. And I tried, but if they hadn’t come we would have been lost, too.”

Blinking tears away that had arrived as suddenly as a summer storm, Even looked to Isak, feeling for strength. And he found it in his smile, as a hand ran up his back encouragingly. He shuffled closer until he pressed his cheek to Even’s, kissing him softly at the corner of his mouth.

_ It’s OK. _

_ I know, you’re here. _

Isak huffed a quiet laugh, it danced across Even’s neck delicately before a thought came that was just as tender.  _ I don’t think she could have done what they’ve done. _

He was probably right, but Even needed to know. He paid back Isak’s kiss with one of his own, before he returned his focus to the merman—his grandfathers.

“How did you manage it? Could she have done the same?” It didn’t need to be specified, they would know what Even meant. The sad look in their eyes affirmed his notion.

“No, we were lucky but we didn’t know what we were doing. It was supposed to be a farewell.” Emotion was prominent in his voice as he spoke, the memories of the past clear as if it was the present, “The human body was dying, and we decided to swim together one last time. We thought it was the end. But we swam to the quiet depths and we held one another and somehow,” the merman shrugged, eyes wet. Even decided it must be confusing to live as two souls in one body. Who decided to speak for whom? But then, he supposed, it would all be one voice, one experience. He also decided that he wasn’t yet brave enough to go to the being and offer support in the way of a hug, despite that desire burning strongly in him. “The body died, we let it slip away, but our souls were fused, inside this form. We needed to be together at the end. I can only guess that Misha and Morgan were not physically close when it happened.”

Even nodded. It wouldn’t have been possible, his dad wasn’t blessed with a life that had tapered down into old age. It was cut abruptly short, and his parents were apart when it had happened.

“How did you… fuse?” Isak’s voice piped up at his shoulder, of course he would have his questions, that was his nature. But the merman smiled at his inquisitiveness.

“It’s merely theory, but we spent so many years so close, we shared our lives and memories—even from before the point in time that we met—swam together in our minds in the worlds we created that had become conjoined. We were more than two separate entities, we became one long before our human body could no longer live. It was a metaphysical connection and it couldn’t end then.”

Even looked at Isak, his mouth open at yet another piece of information for him to try and digest. So, they could one day have this? If life dealt them kind cards? It was then that Even remembered the conversation with his mum on the jetty, the night she left. She knew there was another way to be together like this, and she’d had confidence Even would figure it out on his own.

Now he knew.

“She knew. She said… I could find it. But she never talked to me about the things that matter—not in detail.”

His grandfather considered him with a look equally measured between pity and understanding. “Instincts should be discovered on their own, with some guidance. But it was probably painful for her, especially when you found each other.”

Even nodded. “I didn't know he was my soul bond until she told me, I already loved him by then.”

“You would have loved him from the moment you saw him. Maybe even before that,” the merman said with a quiet smile. Of course, his human grandfather had kept returning year on year before he knew of his soul mates existence, despite being seen himself. Isak had kept returning, too.

“It  _ was  _ hard for her, she—” he hesitated on the words, Isak didn't know this part, “she wanted me to leave, go back to the sea so I wouldn't hurt like her. It's part of why she knew she had to go, she was hurting me.” It would never hurt any less, it would always sting that his happiness dawning was the same point she had to let go.

“It was her time, Even— _ past _ her time. And now her soul is reborn somewhere, in this universe, or the next, where she will find him again. She's at peace, son.” The words were a blanket of comfort and truth and it eased Even, soothing his memories.  _ Son _ ? That was nice, too.

Closing his eyes, he felt for Isak, trying to sense any hurt or discomfort from finding out what his mother had said. All he found was understanding; he’d seemed to understand Mischa after that first and only breakfast together. Even wished they'd spent more time in each other’s company but he understood why they could not.

“It wasn't your time though. That's why we’re here, and we can stay as long as you need us.” Looking up, Even saw those aged and wise mismatched eyes considering him softly with curiosity and love. He wanted to stay, he wanted to know Even and Isak. His own kin.

“I’d like that.”

“Good.” A grin spread across his face with the words. “And I've missed these pups too.” He gave his attention to Applesauce who looked to be trying to fuse with the being herself, clambering all over him and pushing beneath him. “Our kind have always been solitary creatures, following our own threads in the pattern of the world. But—” he was cut off as Applesauce licked him across the face, “but I’d always wanted for more. A connection deeper. Both of us did, we found it here and it bloomed into a family—a home.”

Even cast his eyes down as the words filtered into him, once again feeling inadequate compared to them and everything they had built and accomplished together, as one. He’d almost ruined everything. How could he carry on in their footsteps? He felt so ill equipped. And he knew that Isak trusted in all they were, together. But Even felt like he should be more, that he shouldn’t have made the mistakes that he did. He was supposed to nurture, not destroy.

“I just need to go check on the soup,” Isak announced out of nowhere, and to the cavern at large.

“ _ More soup? _ ” he asked, frowning. Feeling at their shared emotions, he knew it wasn't a lie, but it was an excuse. Isak was trying to give him some room to vent, to have it out with this legendary person and gain some perspective.

Isak shrugged and grinned right back. “I didn’t know how much you’d need.”

“Did you find the recipe?” The merman put to Isak eagerly.

He nodded in response. “Only took a few attempts to get it right,” he snickered in self-deprecation.

“It was perfect.” Even added, and he wasn’t exaggerating.

Colour rose in Isak’s cheeks before he darted forward, pressing a soft lingering kiss to Even’s jaw. “Well, I wouldn’t want to fail your expectations when I’ve placed the bar so high now, would I?”

“You never could.”

Isak levelled a disbelieving look at him. “You keep going on like that and I’m gonna intentionally find ways to disappoint you.”

“I look forward to it.” Even smirked at him as Isak shook his head. The idea was endearing, watching Isak intentionally try to make a mess of things when he couldn’t help but put his whole heart into whatever he set his mind on.

_ I’ll see you at home,  _ he sent as he began to stand.

_ Home. _

And Isak couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips.  _ Yes, home. _

Even watched as he turned to nod his farewell to their new family member, and then slipped away through the crevice. But the steady beat of his heart never lessened in Even’s mind.

A quiet stretched out as the footsteps receded, and Even decided to be forthright with what was on his mind.

“I don’t think I’m like you,” he admitted, daring to meet the seemingly omniscient gaze that held him.

The merman frowned. “Like me, how?”

Even shrugged, grappling for the words. “You are… so sure. You know, you’ve always known what was best. That just isn’t a part of me, I doubt my instincts, I feel like I don’t know what I should. I put everything at risk because of the things I didn’t know, because of the bad choices I made.” He came to a stumbling halt, all of his insecurities flooding out of him to this ideal version of himself that he thought he should be, and that he thought he’d never be.

But his grandfather simply looked confused. “Even, what do you know of us?”

Even blinked. All he knew was the story, he thought that was all that was important. “That you found each other right here, that one picked up the shards of a cup and mended it to return it to the other the next year. That you fell in love, that you built this place… that you disappeared into the ocean together after a lifetime of happiness.” Had he covered everything?

A deep laugh bubbled from the merman. “That’s the bedtime story I used to tell your mother and aunt. It was their very favourite.”

“Mine too,” Even admitted, before pausing to let the reaction and words sink in. “Is it true?”

“Of course,” he snorted. Even wasn’t sure if he should feel defeated or pleased in the admission, but his grandfather steamrolled over his inner questions. “It is, however, an abridged version of events, as one would tell a child before bed.”

“Oh?” Even asked, curiously. “What else happened?”

“Your mother knew as she grew older, as lessons on decisions became more important. So, perhaps she never filled in the rest?” It was half question, half statement. It was obvious that Even didn’t know, but he shook his head nonetheless. “Well, we had our own period of separation, a secret revealed at a vulnerable moment split us. For three years we lived without the other.”

“ _ Three years? _ ” Even repeated, incredulous at the fact. They had barely made it past a week. “We couldn’t have coped that long. It was only a week we were apart.”

His grandfather shook his head. “It wasn’t the same. You mother was a part of us by then, although one knew and the other did not. She was the binding that kept us alive. But the separation almost overcame us, even then. We found each other just in time.” There was a sadness there, those days still able to be felt through the memories that would live strong within them both. There was more to the story, but Even would never probe. That was between them.

“So, things weren’t always happy?” It was Even’s turn now to state the obvious.

“No. Not one of us knows the correct path or route, if there is a correct path through life, but even our separation only knitted us closer together—once we were whole again. There was a reason in it.” He patted a stretch of sand next to him that was free of dogs. Even stared at it a moment before moving forward across the ground and settling nearer, his back pressed to a boulder and the fear of an impressive past that he measured himself against fading. “Your confidence in yourself will grow. Isak already trusts in you, and not because he is blind by love, but because he knows you—better than you know yourself. So, if you can’t trust in yourself, trust in him.” His grandfather finished off with a grin, and turned to Even, there was something mischievous in those mismatched eyes that Even suspected would never fade. “I like him.”

Even couldn’t help but let out a shy laugh, it was strange how much weight this being’s approval held already. But he couldn't help but feel pride in the acceptance. “I like him, too.” Even said softly. This is how he’d wished it could be with his mum, shared joy in the love he had found. Now he had that.

His grandfather hummed, amused. “Well, if you like him so much, you better give me a hug and then go see to him. I bet he rushed you down here?”

Even nodded. “Oh, he did.”

“I’m glad for it, I’m glad to see you, at least, and for you to see me. And I won’t be going anywhere.” He held his hand out for Even to grasp, which he did, and then pulled him into a powerful hug. Arms as thick as tree branches wrapped around Even, almost squeezing the life out of him. But it was a comfort, it was grounding, and he was able to let go of it all. He could see the future. “Now, go and be happy, son.”

And Even took his advice to heart.

* * *

The soup was merely simmering, there would have been no harm done if it had been left a little longer, but Isak had felt Even needed some time. He sensed there were things his grandad could help heal that Isak couldn’t, being that he was not a merman himself. Well, not yet in any case. That was a notion that hadn’t entirely settled in his brain yet. He had walked into a fairy-tale and been accepted as a part of it. It was a delirious bliss that he was sure he would wake from at any moment. Dream or not, he would appreciate every second granted.

“It’s not a dream.” Even’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere, just as Isak was putting the lid on the container to let the soup sit, and making him jump out of his skin.

“You know, one day I will be used to all this and you won’t be able to sneak up on me anymore,” he chided. But he couldn’t help the smile Even’s presence evoked.

“I’ll be very sad that day.” Even mocked a pout and Isak snorted.

“Then I’ll just have to figure out a way to take your mind off it.”

Even sauntered across the kitchen to lean against the dark, marbled countertop that Isak was standing at. “You could just pretend I make you jump. Forever.”

Isak narrowed his eyes. “You would  _ know _ . Where’s the fun then?”

Even expelled a feigned sorrowful sigh. “I guess I’ll have to settle for the bit where you take my mind off it then.”

_ “Settle?”  _ Isak snorted.

Even grinned down at Isak as he rounded on him. “Settle might not be the right word.”

“It better not be.” Isak would be more snarky, he’d have better comebacks, but right now need was overwhelming all of his senses. And all his senses wanted to feel Even, in every way. “Or I’ll disappoint you so hard.”

“Is that so?”

Isak nodded, lids heavy as he gazed up, tilting his chin defiantly. “I won't last longer than a minute when you put your hands on me.”

Even snorted a surprised laugh. “That just sounds like a challenge, not a disappointment.” His mouth was so close now that their lips brushed as they spoke.

Isak needed to get whatever upper hand he could right now, so he reached up to grab Even’s nape, fingers flowing through his hair and pulling their mouths together. It was a quick kiss before Isak pulled back to inhale deeply, and then dove back in. Hasty desire driving his tongue to push past Even’s lips, sliding alongside his own; warmth and sweetness met him in a rush and it was all consuming.

Even moved against him, pushed him against the worktop. Fingers passing down Isak’s neck and chest, making his skin ache to feel those tender traces without the cotton barring the way.

“Are you done here?” Even whispered into his mouth.

“I need to wash up—” he began, but was cut off by another kiss and yanked away from the countertop. Even began to walk backwards out of the room and pulled Isak along.

“I can do that later,” he murmured in reply as they caught their breath. Isak didn't bother to protest, but he was the one who was supposed to be looking after Even. Maybe he would slip away after… “And we won't be done anytime soon… you won't be sneaking anywhere, Isak.”

Isak moaned as he was pushed against the wall of the stairwell. How were they going to get to the bed at this rate? As well as feeling how much Even wanted him, he could hear and see his intentions, every last indecent thing he wanted to do. “It’s maybe rude to be so honest about reading my mind.” But he was going to crumble so fast under Even’s passion if he didn't focus, if he didn't push back.

“I can't help it, you're so readable. I can't stop it,” he half laughed, but he was distracted tugging Isaks t-shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere, Isak didn't care where, he was just relieved that barrier was removed. And there was something insatiable about reading each other, he couldn’t deny that.

Fingers were tugging at his waistband and Isak dropped his head back against the wall, but his hands pulled at Even’s clothing, sliding his jacket from his shoulders, before gripping Even’s hair as he pushed kisses to Isak’s throat.

_ I still owe you,  _ Isak sent, a smirk pulling his lips.

_ All’s fair in love and war, baby. _

Isak melted into the wall at the way he heard Even using that word in his skull, a sweet, teasing caress. But he needed to focus or he’d be swept under.

Closing his eyes, Isak imagined his body pressed to Even’s, sliding over his skin smoothly, legs and arms wrapped around Isak as their bodies met. Even’s head would fall back onto the soft pillow and he’d groan as Isak possessed him…

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Even growled against his skin, “that’s not fair.”

Isak snorted. “All’s fair in love and war,” he repeated through a grin, as Even looked at him half amused and all the way aroused by Isak’s imagination.

“It is,” his hand gripped Isak’s as he tugged him up the stairs. Isak managed to match his strides and within a moment the door to Even’s room was flung open. Their mouths merged again, frenzied and desperate. 

With the bed at Even’s back, Isak took the advantage, walking him backwards while his fingers pulled at the fly and zipper of his jeans. His palms slid over warm smooth skin, and Even groaned into the kiss. His own thoughts gone quiet, allowing Isak’s to overrun him.

It didn’t take much work until Even was bare, and he grunted in surprise when Isak gently pushed him back onto the bed. The shock was short lived because Isak was on him immediately, chasing after insatiable kisses and managing to rid himself of his own trousers. Then there was bliss as they pressed so close; fingers were combing through Isak’s hair and running over his skin, with nothing but the sound of heavy breaths and moans filling the room as they moved against each other.

And he knew Even so well, even without the desire and need he read clearly in his soul mates mind. Every single point on his body that was particularly sensitive was marked on a map in Isak’s mind. He sought them out, with his lips and his tongue, with his hands and touch. There was nothing as beautiful as the noises Even made, he was caught in a rapture that Isak inflicted. He would never tire of this—whoever took control—it was shared: every touch, every sensation, and every breath.

“ _ You’re teasing me _ ,” the words came from above Isak, and they were breathless and desperate. He hadn’t realised that’s what he was doing, he was simply focussed on adorning one part of Even until the sounds he made neared a crescendo, and then roamed to another part of him. Isak just wanted all of him to feel good, he wanted every single nerve in Even’s body to feel him, and ache for him.

“Sorry, baby,” Isak murmured into the flesh of Even’s stomach.

“No you’re not,” he huffed in reply, “and I do.”

His lips trailed up Even’s chest before he asked, “You do what?”

“I ache for you. Every moment, every heartbeat. I  _ need  _ you.” Fingers were twining through Isak’s hair as Even spoke, demanding his mouth return to waiting lips. Isak let himself be guided and his body pulled against Even’s as they kissed. Limbs were around him, just like they had been in his thoughts, but the gasp came from them both as Isak expelled whatever remaining space lay between them, pushing against Even, merging with his body.

The touches that lingered up his back and neck kept him grounded, reminded him to breathe as a wave of euphoria washed over him. It was completion—utter unity—when they were like this. Both of their pleasure swirled and blended, and overflowed. And their bodies’ rolled and rocked, small ripples that quickly became urgent waves at high tide.

It was overwhelming, he could feel Even all over him: within his mind, in his heart and all over his body. Isak could do nothing put chase the bliss that he felt echo from Even as he moved—again and again—and his lips kissed Even’s bared throat, as his hands caressed his body, fingers finding tender muscle to grip and massage.

He wanted to be slow and thorough, the way Even had taken him the first time. Isak felt he was rushing, but the pull between them was a magnetism he couldn’t deny or withstand. His body moved of its own accord, in answer to his and Even’s desires. And the noises that came from the body beneath him did nothing to stall his pleasure. But he  _ wanted  _ to take his time.

_ You’re perfect,  _ Even sent to him,  _ don’t stop.  _ It was mind blowing how the voice in his head sounded so wanton.

_ I just want to make sure— _

_ If you think I’m lasting any longer than you, you’re insane.  _ And now there was a small measure of impatience in the voice in Isak’s skull. He couldn’t help but grin before that was wiped from his face as Even arched beneath him, urging him on.

And then there were no thoughts. There was just Even, beneath him, around him and within him, just as intimately as Isak was inside of Even. Instinct took over, his body doing what it knew it should, and all Isak could do was pant against Even’s open mouth, trace his jaw with kisses and revel in the way Even’s fingers were digging into his skin, encouraging every single movement. His mind was quiet now, it was the calm before the storm.

It hit at once. Even curled around him, his grip almost too tight, and all Isak could hear was his name—in his mind or his ears, he didn’t know. But it caused the universe to burst into life behind his eyelids as he let go, in unison with Even, under the pressure of this intense love.

Flashes of motion and sensation glinted in his sub-conscious state as he swam, in this deep, dark, and sacred place they shared. There was sweat and warmth, there was breath and touch, finally there were lips against his own, rousing him back to this reality, to here and now, Isak and Even, in this bed, in this world.

Resting his forehead against Even’s, Isak opened his eyes to find dark blue staring right back. “I loved you before I even knew you.” The words seemed to come from nowhere, but they had been waiting on Isak’s tongue ever since the conversation in the cove. He knew it now, it seemed impossible, but he’d loved Even his whole life. It was only now that he could sense it and realise it. It was both unreal and yet the most real thing he had ever known.

“Me too,” Even replied simply, but his own emotions surged fiercely alongside Isak’s.

Love. Togetherness. Happiness. Meaning. Belonging. Life.

_ Life _ . The thought occurred to him now, but it didn’t panic him in the slightest. Which was odd, but he accepted it. “Wouldn’t that be risky? What we just did?”

Even shrugged. “It’ll happen when and if it’s supposed to. You don’t think my grandparents weren’t at it all the time, when it feels like  _ that _ ? And they only had two, my parents just had me—”

Isak cut him off, shaking his head vigorously. “I don’t need to think about that, your family—you know—”

“It’s just life, Isak,” he chuckled, his fingers pushing hair back from Isak’s forehead. “But we can think about something else.” He raised an eyebrow in the way that—even if they hadn’t been bonded—Isak would know exactly what he was thinking.

_ “Again?”  _ he couldn’t help but sound incredulous.

Even licked his lips and hummed his confirmation. “Maybe we can make it less risky.” And with that statement, Isak was rolled onto his back before he could protest—not that he would. Even smirked down at him. “I told you this wouldn’t be quick; I want to watch you come apart,” he added, his tone already deep with the desire his words held.

Isak swallowed, his body already responding to the suggestion, and Even’s mouth already on his neck.

_ “Fuck.” _


	16. Life Is Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But he knew Isak’s thoughts would centre around one thing: going home. Because it was an issue, what were they going to do? They had no one to watch over this place, Even could fly out to him every few weeks but even that had its issues. It would still be painfully long days apart.
> 
> “Not to mention the cost.”
> 
> Even shot him a look coupled with a grin. “You’re getting too good at that.”
> 
> He shrugged like it was nothing, like all these instincts he was embracing were completely normal and any other human could do it. Even would spend the rest of his life showing Isak how amazing he was and not regret one moment.
> 
> “But it’s true, it would be a fortune in airfare to commute.”
> 
> Guilt settled on Even quickly, this had never come up before. “That wouldn’t be a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is the end. Thank you for everyone that came along for the ride, those of you that commented really kept me going. So thank you <3
> 
> I hope this ending wraps everything up, now I'm just going to go cry in a corner.
> 
> Love, Becs

_“Come on you, Spanish fucker!”_

Isak grinned to himself as he made his way from the kitchen, tray in hand and three mugs of tea on board. Because it _had_ to be tea. And as well as Jess being irreversibly English—needing at least a few gallons of the stuff to survive one single day—she was also a pretty sore loser.

Turns out, Even was pretty good at most everything he turned his hand to—except maths, which he could possibly be excellent at, but Even felt no desire to break calculations down to the finer elements: _they are what they are_ , he'd say. Whereas Isak liked to understand every last facet of something. But their differences were always a source of amusement, rather than exasperation.

“Are you losing again?” he asked, setting the tray down on the coffee table and ignoring the glare shot at him by his flatmate.

“He's cheating,” she pouted. Despite the accusation, her legs were thrown across Even’s lap and she sprawled back against the arm of the sofa, as comfortable as a cat, lounging on its favourite human. Isak could understand, Even was his favourite being, too.

Even looked at her, mouth hanging open in shock. “I did _not_ ; I’m following the rules,” he insisted earnestly.

She let the controller fall to her stomach as she rolled her eyes. “ _Sure_. You just seem to have some magical luck on your side. I've been playing this game all year with your boy over there,” she said, flinging her hand in Isak’s direction, “and _you_ pick up the damn controller _today_ and you've been kicking my ass since.” Her arms crossed over her chest and she nudged at him with a slippered foot. “You've been practising haven't you?” Her eyes narrowed at Even and he held up his hands in defence.

“Would it make you feel better if I said yes?” She nodded emphatically in reply, and Even shot her that warm smile that Isak would be jealous of if it was anyone else receiving it but Jess. “Then I'm an international champion of… of—” Evens eyes darted to the table to find the game sleeve.

“FIFA,” Isak offered as he slid into the spot next to Even, considering whether he could somehow wrestle Jess for some space on Even’s lap too.

“Yes. That. FIFA… international champion,” he finished off, with a flourish of his hands before reaching forward for his mug and Jess’s. “And you almost beat me, so I guess that makes you… second champion—in the world.” He grinned at her as he offered her the mug, hoping the gesture would be accepted. Jess’s pout became a tight frown before she lost control of her features altogether and her lips slipped into a smile.

“I suppose I _am_ pretty good.”

“You're the best, Jess— _well_ , after me.”

Isak frowned over his tea. “ _And_ me,” he interjected sternly.

Jess snorted. “I beat you at least fifty per cent of the time.”

“ _Fifty?”_ Isak almost spat his tea out, there was no damn way _that_ was accurate.

“Well, I'm going from today’s stats. I don't remember accurately since the beginning of the academic year, so the data wouldn't be correct.” And she said it all with a straight face and in such a lecturing tone, Isak didn't bother to argue that they'd only played twice today, _and_ she was cheating the time she won by needling him in the ribs with her boney elbows whenever either of them managed to get near a goal. But he remembered someone saying all was fair in love and war, this was either one of them and he wasn't sure exactly which.

“Fine,” he sighed, “We’re joint second.” Weirdly enough, he didn't feel any bitterness when he lost to Even, that was mostly because they were as good as one being, there was no such thing as winning or losing between them. And partly because Even would never stop feeling the need to make it up to Isak; those conciliatory gestures was always received appreciatively, to say the least.

“We’re all winners, and winners deserve biscuits,” she declared, eyes scanning the tray, “which I see you forgot, _Isak_.” She shook her head, feigning exasperation. Sliding her feet from their comfortable spot, she put her mug down and padded her way to the kitchen. She would be a while, there was a slew of biscuit types to choose from that Jess had smuggled across from England after the Christmas break.  

Isak eyed Even, who smirked right back. “You did that on purpose, didn't you?”

“I don't know what you mean,” he grinned, taking the opportunity to slide into the space that was now free on Even’s lap. The hand not holding the mug found its way to Isak’s waist.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, baby.”

Isak bent his head closer to Even’s, letting his free arm loop over Even’s shoulder, his fingers stroking through the fine hair at his nape. “You know what helps me sleep at night.”

“I do?” It was his turn to try mock innocence. Isak merely arched an eyebrow at that.

“Shall I remind you?”

Even laughed softly, tilting his chin up to capture Isak’s lips. A tender thing and all the nourishment Isak thought he’d ever need. Their lips parted and his trail of thought was utterly lost, he only just managed to steady his hand before tea sloshed onto his wrist.

“I thought we were supposed to be keeping Jess company?” His blue eyes danced with amusement, but the question jogged Isak’s memory.

“We are, that's why I _accidently_ forgot the biscuits.”

Even frowned at him. “This isn't keeping her company, Isak. This is you straddling me and trying to entice me into something altogether depraved—and, by the way, I’m not complaining about that.” Well, that wasn't incorrect but there _had_ been a point.

“I wanted to ask you,” Isak’s gaze flitted to the kitchen as he heard a cupboard door bang shut and the familiar sound of biscuits being poured onto a plate. He hoped it was the custard creams. “Maybe we should stay here tonight, keep her company? I don't like her being alone.”

Even’s eyes softened as he looked at him; now he wasn't distracted by the game he had probably read the intention in Isak before it was suggested. “Of course.” He paused to smile, “You’re such a loving friend.”

Isak snorted but he could feel the heat in his cheeks. It was just common sense, to keep someone company. It wasn't nice to be alone. “It’s just the right thing to do.”

A huffed laugh—that was more than dismissive—made Isak frown as his eyes found Even’s again. “You can't hide from me, I can see how good you are. I see all of you, like you see all of me.”

“Well,” Isak began his defence in a quiet voice, “I have to be good enough to match an ethereal being.”

“Ethereal? Like an angel?”

“Yeah, but like an angel of the sea.”

Even paused, that small smile on his lips that sometimes said more than his emotions. “Well, that makes you my angel of the stars.”

Why was he still holding his mug? He really couldn't give Even’s body the attention that Isak craved to give one handed. But the moment was sabotaged by Jess clearing her throat louder than necessary.

“I leave the room for five damn seconds…” she muttered, before placing the plate down on the coffee table. Custard creams _and_ chocolate digestives, they would have to be quick to get any at all.

“Even was just saying he felt kinda tired so we might crash here for the night,” he lied, pulling his covetous gaze away from the plate.

Jess had just settled in her seat, mug in one hand and a biscuit in the other. She divided a sceptical look between them both. “Its 4pm—”

“Exactly,” Even cut in, invested in the lie already, “so imagine how much _more_ tired I'll be in an hour or two.”

“Plus we kinda miss my bed. You know— _memories_.”

Jess rolled her eyes at them. “I’ve been to the house… you have, like, five or six beds to make memories in. And _you_ ,” she stabbed the biscuit at Even like it was a weapon, “You are _never_ tired. I don't need a babysitter.”

“It’s not like that, we like being here with you.” Even offered before Isak piled in.

“Yeah, I miss you,” he sang sweetly, adding a grin for good measure as he settled back with both hands holding his tea and trying to look as casual as you can while straddling your boyfriend.

Her expression slipped into something else, which might have been panic, if Isak didn’t know Jess better. Why would she panic? “Really, it’s fine, I like having my own space in the evenings. I can walk around naked and whatever.” She tried to shrug nonchalantly, but he wasn’t fooled.

“We can shut ourselves in my room if you wanna tap dance naked on the kitchen table—we don’t care. Besides, I should probably think about packing.” That thought was a sombre one, and one that Isak had tried to keep at bay.

“ _Pack?_ You have two weeks, it’ll take you twenty minutes to put all your belongings in a bag—and that’s the higher end of the estimate.” It was true, Isak didn’t need a lot to survive, well, he only needed _one_ thing—one person.

“Preparation is key,” Isak crooned in a voice mimicking one of their lecturers—Mr Zeller—who had an insanely monotonous voice, and had taught them the last period on a Monday, simply because God was cruel.

“Schedules must be adhered to,” she pushed right back, another of this lecturer’s favourite phrases, “and your plan was to stay until six and then go back to utopia, for _hors-d’oeuvre_ —or whatever it is you eat over there.” The snort of laughter that came from Even was almost enough to draw Isak’s attention, but he was focussed fully on why Jess was being so obtuse. But the gentle squeeze on his leg did nudge him out of his determination. Isak turned to Even as the voice spoke out in his head.

_Baby, stop._

_Why?_

_She’s not ready to talk about it._

Isak frowned. At first he thought perhaps she was trying to distance herself from them, so when she flew home on the same day Isak was supposed to leave, the separation wouldn’t be too painful. Which didn’t make complete sense because they’d already made plans to visit each other—she wanted to see the snow in Oslo because apparently in London it’s pretty rare and when it does it takes a full five minutes before it’s grey slush.

But then he remembered how much Jess had been fawning over her phone, tilting the screen away as she would answer a message and smiling so wide, dimples pooled in her cheeks.

“Oh… Ohhhh,” Isak exclaimed, he didn’t have the same sense of propriety as Even here, not when it came to Jess, “So you want alone time?”

Jess’s eyes narrowed on him. “Yes, because—”

“Completely alone,” Isak stated, not caring to hide his disbelief.

She knew he’d caught up. Tossing her head back she sighed, but her cheeks turned pink. “Fine! Fine. She’s coming over, tonight. For a date.”

“Ha, I knew it. _Sonja_ ,” he teased the name with a grin.

“Yes, _Sonja_ , are you happy now?”

“Only if you are. She’s cute.” And he switched to seriousness now, he didn’t want her to feel he was making fun. He _was_ genuinely happy, Jess had needed to get laid all year. Well, more than that, and hopefully more would follow.

“Well, on that we agree,” she said tartly, but the flush in her face didn’t lessen. “But speaking of schedules, you can’t go before you’ve washed up. It was the deal.”

“Are you serious?”

And somehow Jess managed to look down her nose at him, despite him sitting higher than her, in a strict manner. “Yes, it was the deal: whoever got the lower grades, does the washing up for the rest of the term.”

Isak snorted. “You only got _one_ grade higher than I did.”

“Sixteen whole points to be exact, Isak.”

“Right, so it’s not exactly fair.” And here he was back to the whole fairness debate. It was his turn to sigh. This was definitely love and not war, he decided—war would be less brutal. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Even’s hand tightened its hold that hadn’t relented since it was placed on Isak’s waist. “I’ll help,” he murmured gently, wading into the debate. Suddenly the prospect was all the more bright, with Even by his side, putting suds on Isak’s chin and pretending he had a beard like his grandfather's, before kissing him until it was nothing but water dripping down them both. He would gladly do that.

“That would be nice,” he said, and even he couldn’t deny he was doting, as he smiled down at Even.

“Ugh, you guys are gross.” A controller was thrust between them before Isak could consider closing the distance between their lips. It seemed an eternity since they’d last kissed, and that was a god damn crime. “Come on, loser plays loser, Isak, or Even will never get a break. You can do all that _stuff_ later—in _private_.”

“Or the car?” Even quipped, raising an eyebrow as Isak grunted a shocked laugh at the suggestion.

“You can do whatever the hell you want on your time,” Jess insisted, “but this is my time.”

“It is,” Isak agreed, sliding into the spot and swapping the mug for the controller.

_The car?_ He asked.

_Yep._ The word came back both amused and serious. How was it so easy for Even to turn him on?

He tried to focus on the screen as he selected his team. _Deal._  

* * *

Even didn’t probe at Isak’s thoughts as they walked hand in hand through the wooded path that led to the inlet. The sun was setting, and shadows clawed through the greenery for the last few moments in this perfect world. He probably wouldn’t have considered his home that before, but now they were together it all seemed new to his eyes. Everything Isak appreciated here, bore a fresh delight inside of Even.

But he knew Isak’s thoughts would centre around one thing: going home. Because it was an issue, what were they going to do? They had no one to watch over this place, Even could fly out to him every few weeks but even that had its issues. It would still be painfully long days apart.

“Not to mention the cost.”

Even shot him a look coupled with a grin. “You’re getting too good at that.”

He shrugged like it was nothing, like all these instincts he was embracing were completely normal and any other human could do it. Even would spend the rest of his life showing Isak how amazing he was and not regret one moment.

“But it’s true, it would be a fortune in airfare to commute.”

Guilt settled on Even quickly, this had never come up before. “That wouldn’t be a problem.”

Isak halted, bringing him to a stop and turning to meet the questioning gaze that held him—he could feel the guilt and impending confession. “What do you mean?”

There was no other way to say it than to do just that, and plainly. “My family on the human side was prestigious, I guess; my great-grandfather was a count, and my great-grandmother was a Nobel.”

“ _A Nobel_?” Isak’s voice was high, shock quickly filling the channels that fed Even his soulmate’s emotions.

“Yeah—the title no longer exists,” he added quickly, in hopes to soothe the shock, if that was at all possible, “but the estate and investments are all in my name.”

Isak spluttered, quiet obviously trying to figure out where to start. _“How much?”_

Shrugging, Even tried to look as apologetic as was possible considering he was trying not to laugh at Isak looking so dumbfounded. It was beyond adorable. “I have no idea—but it’s why this place keeps going. Didn’t you ever wonder?”

It was Isak’s turn to shrug. “Yeah, I guess—well, no actually,” he admitted, “I was too busy trying to get in your pants and then save your ass.”

Even did let himself laugh then, as he drew Isak towards him and enveloped him in his arms. “It just means one less thing to worry about,” he said, kissing Isak’s forehead, and then cheek, before finding his lips. And by the time they parted, Isaks fingers gripped tightly to his shirt; Even couldn't help but preen at how lost he always seemed in their kisses. But it was a heartbeat and a flutter of his eyelashes before Isak’s train of thought was reclaimed.

“ _A fucking count, Even?_ Is there anything else you want to reveal? Do I need to start bowing when you enter the room?”

“No,” he snickered, “unless you want to.” And he added a wink as Isak cast him a none too impressed glance. Pursing his lips, Even cast his eyes heaven bound as he thought the question through. “I don't think there’s anything else, but if I remember, you'll be the first to know.”

Isak quirked his eyebrows in a way that stated he knew more revelations would probably come, but the prospect was merely intriguing and amusing to him.

A witty comment was on the tip of Isak’s tongue, but something in the green carpet of plants that ran either side of the path caught his attention, Even searched for what it might be. Stooping, Isak plucked the thing from its place before standing smoothly. “I suppose it won't hurt if I just take one,” he muttered, his fingers reaching towards Even as he slid the sunshine yellow dandelion behind an ear. “There,” he stated, standing back to admire his work.

Even fingered at the flower Isak had seen fit to adorn him with, laughing softly at the gesture. “What's this for?”

“Cos it's pretty like you,” Isak grinned, “also, in Norway a dandelion child is one that manages to thrive, despite great difficulties.”

The smile that spread on Even’s face was uncontrollable. “That’s beautiful, thank you.” Isak shrugged in the way he did when he wasn't used to gratitude for something he saw as small and simple, but the truth was it spoke volumes about the size of his heart. He was beautiful in every which way, but on this occasion Even decided to divert the subject.  

“What about you? I'm sure there are some secrets you have yet to spill.” They turned back to the path, fingers weaving together once more.

Isak frowned looking at his feet, he was considering the question seriously. “Not really, I mean there _was_ this one time I had a crush on my best friend, but I think that's about as good as it gets.”

“You did? Is he cute?” Even asked, no hesitation in prying into the facts because there was no reason to hide or nothing to fear from them.

Isak shrugged. “I suppose, if you're into the whole surfer thing.”

“So you have a thing for water people then, is that what you’re saying?”

Isak cast him an unimpressed look—it was mostly a scowl—but the smirk on his lips proved otherwise. “Yes, you've figured me out. It's not you, its the water thing. It's my kink. And the scales—that too.”

Even tipped back his head to laugh, surging deep from his belly, as he pulled Isak’s back to his chest, trying to continue along the path both conjoined that way and with his nose buried in Isak’s neck as he kissed along his throat.

“I love you— _and_ your stupid sense of humour.”

“Good, cos one doesn't come without the other.”

“Well, _that’s_ good cos I love having all of you.”

There was a pause as they stumbled down the path, both unwilling to relinquish this stroll and cuddle combination they’d embarked on. In fact, Isak’s palms slid up over Even’s forearms, pulling the grip he already had around his waist tighter still.

“But you can’t say anything,” Isak added urgently, as an afterthought to their conversation, “When you meet him. No one knows, I don’t think.”

“Our secrets are safe,” he reassured into Isak’s neck, he wasn’t done kissing that particular area of skin yet. And now that he’d started, Even’s hunger for more of him reawakened—despite what they’d already got up to in the backseat of his car. Insatiable; it was the only word to describe this.

“Jess!” Isak blurted out, as if the name alone made perfect sense.

“You had a crush on her, too?” Even quipped, realising the pinch would come before Isak even gripped at his arms. He still winced when the pressure was applied.

“No—god, no. She’s like my sister, that’s just—no. I _meant_ that she might wanna stay here for a bit longer, maybe.”

Even frowned. “To look after the place?” Isak nodded. “I don’t know, she seems keen to be away, she’ll run out of biscuit and tea supplies soon.”

“It’s worth asking, maybe she’ll want to spend the summer here.”

“True, we can ask.” But the doubt was clear in Even’s voice, he was sure Jess was already making her own _busy_ plans over summer.

Isak felt at his uncertainty, and his inevitable conclusion rolled around again, Even could sense it a mile off. “Or, I could just stay.”

Even sighed. “We’ve been over this, you need to go back for your final year. You’ve done so well—in spite of everything—you hit all the top marks… _mostly_.” He added the last word hastily, trying not to dwell on that one point that Jess seemed to like reminding Isak of. “I’m so proud of you, but you can’t put it on hold. You have to strike while the iron is hot… or whatever.” He wasn’t used to giving out advice, let alone advice that anyone took stock in. But Isak listened to him, and not only that he valued Even’s words.

“ _Or whatever_ ,” Isak mimicked, as always steering clear of the praise.

Even snorted, about to rebuff and impress how important Isak’s studies were to them both, when they stumbled out onto the gravelly sand of the inlet. He gazed up as the sun inched closer to the sea—a goodnight kiss. Everything was as it should be, everything was in its place, except for _one_ thing.

A long shadow was cast down the jetty, the being it joined was a man, but one who was larger than life. He sat, leaning back and resting on his palms as he watched the sunset, and several dogs had bookended him. And then he turned to them, shooting a mischievous grin back at Isak and Even as he pulled two long legs from the water and crossed them in front of him. Applesauce wasted no time before piling into his lap.

“Is that—” Isak began but Even finished off his sentence, as they thought along the same lines.

“Grandad.”

“I didn’t think they would—”

“Me neither.”  

It didn’t take either of them long to stride to the end of the jetty, pulling up short behind the man—as he was now. They exchanged bewildered looks as the being that encompassed two souls focussed his attention on Applesauce’s left ear, and then the right. He was dressed, Even could make out now they were closer, in a disarray of old items that had been in closets for as long as Even could remember; the plaid shirt he wore strained across his shoulders and a white t-shirt stretched across the part of his chest the flannel left bare. But on his lower half Even recognised his own sweatpants—his long legs paying off in this instance.

“You both took your time,” he said, aiming an amused expression back at them. He’d even had time to trim his hair and beard, he looked almost normal, whatever _normal_ meant. “I thought you said six thirty?”

“We—erm,” Even licked his lips, caught off guard by his grandfather's humanesque presence—and what that might mean—combined with the needling question.   

“We got lost,” Isak added, with an uneven smile.

The man grunted a laugh. “Lost,” he mused, as if to himself—which was more than likely true—and sounding altogether unconvinced. “Is that what they call it now?”

Even would laugh at Isak as he combed his fingers through his hair, evidently mirroring each other’s flush of conscience, but Even himself was finding it hard not to check his own appearance for evidence of the implied—and the correct.

“We didn’t know you were waiting, like this.” Even gestured at his grandfather’s lap, as if what he was referring to needed to be pointed out. It was true, if they had known they may have _tried_ to be quicker. Maybe. He felt Isak stifle a laugh as he his thoughts were obviously—and very clearly—read.

“We thought it was time enough that we stretch our legs, it's been years.”

Frowning, Even felt Isak puzzling something over before he spoke. “Didn’t you say that your _change_ took longer than Even’s? How did you do it alone?”

“I wasn’t alone.” He patted Applesauce’s head, who seemed to be beaming proudly to herself, _and_ anyone who would listen. “But you’re right, I thought it would be longer. It turns out, having a human soul might speed up the process—but it’s not an exact science,” he chuckled at his own statement. Despite years having passed them by, as they were—bound in one body, they still marvelled the wonders that came their way. “But I hope you don’t mind,” he added, gesturing to his legs—where they could be seen through the mass of fur covering them—and the clothes that were borrowed.

“No, no, of course not,” Even spluttered, more than happy that he had decided to come on land, and allowing the excitement to begin to flow through him. Or were they Isak’s emotions? Either way, they were on the same page. “But I think we’re going to need to sort you out some new clothes of your own—they barely fit.” And that was a generous assessment.

“I think you might be right,” he said, tugging at the shirt that was never going to close across his broad barrel of a chest. “That can wait until tomorrow, if you don’t mind taking me. Legs are one thing, getting behind the wheel of a car another. It’ll come back, but one step at a time.”

Even was speechless momentarily; he hadn’t considered that skills would need to be remembered, but it made sense. He wanted to relearn driving? So did he planned to stay indefinitely?

“That’s a plan,” Isak answered, “Although it doesn’t look like it, I actually know where the mall is—and clothes shops and such.” Even turned to frown at him, he just shrugged. “Jess,” he added simply. And this time the one name was a good enough explanation on its own.

Turning his focus back to his grandfather, Even grappled for words to form the question begging to be asked. “So… erm—”

“I intend to stay a while, Even.”

“Right,” Even nodded, glad for the save. But was he asking too much by what he wanted from his grandfather, who had only just returned? Was he being selfish?

A fond sigh of exasperation came from the man in question, he could read Even like a book apparently. “As well as enjoying the reunion with this bunch,” he tried to scruff as many ears as he could with the statement, “I figured it would give you both the freedom you need now— the freedom you deserve,” he impressed the last words firmly. He thought this was no selfish act, he saw how Even had been rooted here so long, and he knew the world should be at their feet. This _would_ be their return though, their home for the long term—of that Even was sure. In actuality, what he felt was more like instinct.

Isak’s hand squeezed his own and he turned to be greeted by a tremulous smile. Was he nervous? His emotions spiked in several different directions that Even couldn’t focus on in that moment. Later, he told himself.

“Thank you,” Even spilled the words out in pure gratitude. “Thank you, I don’t know what to say—”

But his words were waved away by a large and elegant hand. “You don’t need to thank me, I should be thanking you for doing such a good job here on your own.”

Shaking his head, Even began to feel that self-deprecation that Isak displayed so often. They were beginning to blur. “It was hardly a chore, this is my home. Well, the place we’ll come back to.” He squeezed Isak’s hand right back.

Mismatched eyes bounced between Isak and Even, and his grandfather wore that small and amused smile again. Whatever conversation was going on within him, Even was sure they were entertaining.

“Well,” he stated, pushing up from the wooden platform and standing, dogs scattered left and right in an indignant fashion, “we should eat and talk plans; I’m famished.”

For once Even had to crane his neck to look at someone. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

Dinner had been a dream come true for Even, all those days he’d eaten on his own, wishing for family to surround him—chatting about things completely trivial and absolutely necessary. They’d made plans quickly for the next few weeks ahead, jotting out a rough timetable, which included Even’s grandfather giving himself driving lessons—he was adamant that he would remaster the skill on his own. And once those necessities had been covered, they moved onto small talk. It turns out his grandfather—or the human one—was a man of science, so Even took pleasure in watching him and Isak discussing theories and hypothesis.

The conversation dwindled as the topic of ancient light was broached, and the statement from his grandfather was made that we can still see light within our sky that was created when our own universe was just three hundred and eighty thousand years old. His point being that our actions ripple through the fabric of time, long past the point that we are present.

Isak had felt thoughtful and quietened, and Even had steered the conversation onto something lighter: what would be a good recipe for breakfast with what they currently had in the fridge? The uneasy emotion hadn’t shifted when Isak had stood from the table and announced he was just going to catch some air, leaving a pregnant pause in the room.

“I think it’s time to re-acquaint myself with my books,” his grandfather had announced, smiling to himself at the thought. But before he left, he caught Even’s eye. “He needs you—to feel your wisdom.” Even nodded in response, but he didn’t need to be told. With the confirmation, his grandfather turned and strolled towards the mezzanine, taking the rungs of the ladder two at a time, and humming a merry and pitch perfect tune as though he were as young as Even. There was no doubts to be found that he would do just fine here, on his own for a spell.

Taking a deep breath, Even pushed himself away from the countertop and made his way to where he felt Isak. The sliding glass door was open, leading onto the patio. He stood for a moment to take in the sight of Isak: sat on the cliff edge with the light of the moon reflecting from the wave crests and the curl of his hair with the same luminous light, the wind teasing wayward leaves and strands alike. His angel of the stars.

“You know, I _can_ feel you there,” he said, words carrying above the crash of the sea.

Even grinned to himself, as he stepped barefoot onto the cool paving stones and made his way to the spot beside Isak, settling smoothly beside him.

“Talk it through,” he suggested gently.

Isak sighed. “You know what I’m thinking anyway, baby.”

“That’s true, but saying it out loud may help you figure it out—what you’re feeling.” Even edged towards him, wrapping an arm around his waist and dropping his feet over the lip of the cliff to dangle beside Isak’s. Another sigh was released, this one felt like relief, as his head rested against Even’s shoulder.

“It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. In fact, I _know_ it isn’t.”

Isak snorted his disagreement, but went ahead with the explanation. “It’s just this is the only place that felt right—like home. And what your grandad said, about our actions making ripples, what if we make the wrong decision by leaving? What if it all goes wrong?”

And he didn’t need to add the example that was all too fresh; Even’s parents.

“I understand, it worries me too.”

Isak turned to look at him, frowning. “It does?”

“You could feel it if you tried, but I feel _that_ much less than the other things.”

“What other things?”

“That wherever you are is the right place to be. That if we are together than nothing can go wrong, because we have each other. Life won’t always bring good things, but as long as we are close nothing can stand in our way.” Even had thought over these things a great deal, since he found out they were destined to be together.   

“You’re so sure?” Isak asked in a quiet voice.

Even shrugged. “No one can be sure of anything, no one knows what’s going to happen tomorrow. We have two stories that show us how good or bad life could be, but the important thing is to make our life our own, with no doubts or regrets. And I won’t regret one single moment spent with you. I just want to be by your side, that’s all I _know_ for sure.”

He could see the shadow of a smile on Isak’s face, feeling Even’s confidence in their paths ahead and adopting it. Reaching into his back pocket, Even pulled out something he’d snagged on his way back up to the house, earlier that evening.

“What’s that?” Isak asked as Even held it carefully in his fingers.

“It’s the flowers that grow along the shore here, they have done ever since my grandfathers met. It was a special symbol between them; they would gift one to the other on special occasions— _blah, blah, blah_.”

A low laugh bubbled from Isak. “ _Blah, blah, blah?_ Good story,” he teased.

“Only the best for you,” Even replied, “and it is _our_ story, but we can still steal little bits from others.” He took the small, blue flower and slipped it behind Isak’s ear. “Now we’re matching.” He grinned at Isak, the dandelion still where it had been put earlier because he couldn’t bear to rid himself of it.

Isak laughed again and shook his head. “We look ridiculous.”

“I think we look _cute_ ,” Even shot back, mock offence in his tone. But then he ducked his head, rubbing his nose against Isak’s. “We have to live in our moments. And not the shadow of anyone else’s past.”

Isak tipped his chin up, his lips pushing against Even’s tenderly. This time it was Even that lost his place in the universe, only the warmth pressed to his mouth grounding him in time. There was just Isak, and that was all that mattered— _Isak, Isak, Isak._ He sung the words to himself, to their shared consciousness, and they stirred like a breeze through them both. The sweet echo followed on its heels: _Even._

His eyes closed as Isak inched closer to him, his blessed warmth seeping into Even, and the stars and the sea spinning and swirling together, just like their lives were destined to swirl and merge. An impossible conundrum that they would make a reality— _their_ reality.

He heard the words that Isak conjured, before they were whispered breathily against his lips; and he felt the importance of them, the fresh start in them, and the new beginnings that bloomed in the shade of them. Even couldn't agree more.

“Life is now.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you Wendy <3

**Author's Note:**

> As always - comments, suggestion and criticism warmly welcomed!
> 
> Thank you [Lady Darkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Darkness/pseuds/Lady_Darkness) for being my second pair of eyes. ILY. <3


End file.
